


incandescent

by allechant



Series: inamorata [8]
Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Love Triangles, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26444668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allechant/pseuds/allechant
Summary: she yearned for him the same way sunflowers yearned for the sun.
Relationships: Hatsune Miku/Gumo | Gumiya (Vocaloid), Hatsune Miku/Kagamine Len
Series: inamorata [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833109
Comments: 36
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

It all started with a crush. A stupid, stupid crush.

She’d never met her best friend’s twin brother, though she knew of his existence. Rin talked about him on occasion – they were extremely close growing up, and they still were, but things had _changed_. Being separated by an entire ocean had a way of doing that to relationships.

Miku was shown pictures of Rin’s brother, sometimes. Back before their parents went through that messy divorce and they were separated, one child to stay with each parent. Rin with her father, Len with his mother.

He was so young then. Happy and carefree. Rin and Len had their arms slung around each other, Rin with an exuberant grin on her face, Len a more reserved version of her but looking no less pleased with himself. _That was our last day of elementary school_ , Rin told her, sounding wistful. _I haven’t seen him much since_.

The only thing Miku noted was their exceptional resemblance to each other. They truly seemed like two halves of a whole, Len simply a more masculine version of Rin. At this point, the only thing Miku thought was that it would be nice to have a twin.

Then one day Rin said that Len was coming to visit. No, more – he would be _transferring_ to their university, and Miku couldn’t help the concern that flickered through her.

She ought to be happy, she knew that – the twins had been apart for years, and it would be selfish to want anything else. Rin missed her brother, she could see it in the way she talked about him, the way her blue eyes shimmered with excitement every time she glanced at the date on her phone. And it wasn’t like Miku to be a dampener on her best friend’s spirits, especially not for something this important.

But she was selfish, and she couldn’t help it. Having Len here meant less time for _her_ , right? Rin would be caught up in their reunion, and them being twins probably left little space for anyone else in their relationship. Would she be pushed to the side, forgotten as Rin fussed over her brother? Was she less important than Len?

So as Rin counted down with bated breath to the day Len would arrive, Miku paced back and forth in her room, biting her fingernails ragged. A nervous habit, one she had never really managed to grow out of. She stubbornly, optimistically, maybe almost foolishly hoped that nothing would change.

Then the next day came and Rin was followed by a boy who turned heads when they walked down the hallway, and Miku knew it wasn’t just because he was new.

Gone was the baby fat she’d seen in his pictures. He was taller than Rin, taller than her – he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, eyes that shimmered and changed like the ocean, and there was a quiet, almost _refined_ grace about him that was so unlike his sister, and Miku couldn’t help herself. She stared and stared and stared until Rin waved a hand in her face, laughing as she glanced away in embarrassment.

 _This is my twin brother, Len. I’ve told you about him. Len, this is Miku – she’s my best friend, so I expect the two of you to play nice!_ Rin said this with the air of a scolding mother, waggling a finger to complete the look, and mutely they nodded.

Since that introduction, it was like she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She sought him out wherever he was, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and no matter how hard she tried to tear herself away, she always gravitated back to him before long.

Like the moon orbiting the sun. Like the ebb and flow of the waves, gentle but inevitable – she didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to stumble into the cliché of falling for her best friend’s brother. Yet here she was, treading into dangerous territory, and she was powerless to stop, caught up in the swell of the tide.

She didn’t notice, but Len was always watching her too, beautiful and distant and quiet. He was polite with the others who talked to him and he cultivated a circle of friends outside of his sister – Miku’s earlier fears about losing her best friend were thankfully unfounded – but he was always, always looking at her.

Once in a while, she swore she could feel a burning gaze searing the back of her neck, but every time she turned around, there was no one there.

* * *

She promised herself that she’d get over him before they all graduated and went on their separate ways. It didn’t make any sense to fall for him when they barely spoke; when they hardly exchanged anything more than a passing glance in the hallways.

But still, she yearned. She _wanted_. She wondered what it’d feel like to run her fingers through his blond hair, whether it would be as soft as her own. How he might look on top of her, blue eyes burning, _burning_ , his voice rasping out her name. How she would loop her arms around his neck and draw him closer, pressing kisses against the column of his neck, nosing at his jaw until he sank his fingers into her skin and hissed profanities into her ear. And then she’d register all these thoughts and her eyes would fly wide open as she scrabbled back, hugging her pillow to her chest.

Len lived in a different dormitory from her and Rin, which made it slightly easier for Miku’s poor heart. She didn’t know how she’d react if she saw him in the morning, stepping out of his room with his hair tousled, his eyes sleepy – she’d wonder if he knew the thoughts that ran through her mind, dirty, _filthy_ thoughts that made her face burn in shame when she was forced to look him in the eye. Thoughts that she instinctively turned to in the middle of her night, her lithe fingers slipping past the waistline of her panties as she gasped out his name, face tilted to the ceiling.

It was humiliating, almost. On particularly needy nights she’d go out of her way to avoid him the next day, often to his confusion, and Rin would have to reassure him that he’d done nothing wrong, that Miku was just being… _cranky_ that morning.

Rin was aware of Miku’s infatuation, and she found it all quite hilarious. _Honestly,_ _I don’t care if you two get together. I want to be an aunt! Go make me some babies!_ And Miku would bury her face in her hands and wonder what she ever did to land herself in this situation, listening to her best friend cackling at her predicament.

They didn’t share any classes, and she didn’t know if that was a blessing or curse. She figured that if Len took _any_ of her modules, she’d fail spectacularly, and that would be entirely her fault. He was good with his studies – of course, he would be, he was _perfect_ wasn’t he – and sometimes she’d head to the library so she could watch him study, his head bent over his books, oblivious to the world around him.

Len was usually not as oblivious as she thought he was, nor was Miku particularly subtle, and on the days he sensed her presence nearby, he’d make sure to stare at his notes, stare so hard that he might just burn a hole in the paper.

Miku wondered sometimes if she ought to say something to him. If she ought to drop a hint or two – _hey, want to hang out? Watch a movie? Grab lunch?_ But every time she saw him her voice died in her throat, and she forgot how to speak.

He’d look expectantly at her and her toes curled when he said her name in that gentle, melodious voice that made everything sound like poetry. She’d open her mouth, clear her throat, then wave and mutter hello before running away like a spooked deer, and he wondered if he’d have better luck if he just caged her in between him and the wall so that she couldn’t bolt so readily in the future.

Everything Miku knew about Len was from his sister. Rin readily shared stories about her brother, more than happy to recount the past, and from there Miku steadily built an understanding of Len’s personality and his preferences.

Like his love for spicy food, how mentioning a good meal alone was more than enough to make his eyes light up, an ocean reflecting off the summer sky. How once upon a time he’d been afraid of the dark – he’d grown out of it, but he still kept the night light Rin once gifted him for their birthday a long, long time ago. How he excelled at everything he did but seemed to give up words for perfection, preferring to keep his thoughts to himself unless he absolutely _had_ to speak.

That made her wonder what it’d be like to tease his voice out of him when they were in bed together, and the thought instantly made her face flame. When Rin asked her why she seemed so flustered, it took everything Miku had to say that nothing was wrong, she was just _hot_ , wasn’t it such a hot day today?

And Rin gave her a strange look and told her it was raining, pointed out that Miku was swaddled in her blankets and maybe she should come up with a better excuse if she wanted to lie, so Miku resorted to throwing a pillow at her best friend’s head.

* * *

One day she bumped into him in the middle of a courtyard. It was past midnight, she had come out for a stroll to clear her head, and there he was, leaning against the giant oak tree in the middle of the square, staring up at the dark sky.

She paused, wondering if she ought to surreptitiously turn around and sneak back to her room. Was about to take a step back and run away when he looked down from the heavens and met her gaze, his blue eyes searching.

It felt like she’d gotten hit in the face, and she froze, her breath misting in front of her. It was a chilly night, and she regretted not wearing more layers – she was clad in little more than her nightdress and a cardigan – but when she left her room, she thought she’d just take a short walk. Five minutes stretched to fifteen stretched to thirty and now she was here with her skin prickling. From the cold? From his stare?

She didn’t know. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know either.

When he started to walk towards her she considered whether to hold her ground or turn tail and flee. It would be easier to act on the latter option, but as she shifted her weight, he seemed to sense her intent and he reached out to grab her wrist. Her heart stuttered, and slowly she turned towards him, trying to understand his actions.

He was watching her, those ocean eyes dark like the midnight sky above them, and she swore she could see constellations in their depths. “Miku,” he breathed, and it was a sound filled with – longing? Desire? _Want?_

She inhaled, trying not to think. It was so much easier not to think, not to wonder – her stomach was churning, and it was impossible to hold his gaze for too long. It made her feel sick. She thought back to her fantasies, to the dreams she dwelled on when she was snug beneath her covers, and instantly she wanted to pull away.

He held fast. “Do you hate me?” he asked, and his voice was soft. Soft, like the rest of him – quiet and precise and _perfect_ and she had to shake her head no, how could she ever hate someone like him? He exhaled, a tense, shaky sound, and she realised this was the first time she’d seen him be anything less than composed.

“Then why do you keep avoiding me?” His gaze was penetrating, uncomfortably so, and she fancied she could feel him _digging_ into her, those eyes of his demanding as any spoken word. “Am I doing something wrong? You’re Rin’s best friend and I want to know you better. It means a lot to her, you know.” He hesitated. “That we get along.”

“I know that,” she mumbled, shifting on her feet. His fingers were searing her wrist – she thought she might combust if she stayed in his vicinity any longer. “I’m not avoiding you or anything, I promise. I’m just kind of awkward. We can be friends.”

“Really?” His grip on her loosened slightly, and his brow furrowed, studying her. It was a challenge to look him in the eye, but she didn’t want him to think she was lying. “That…that would be nice,” he finally said, though he still didn’t release her.

“Yeah. We can hang out. Grab an ice cream or something. Anything you want.” And anything to make him let _go_. She wanted to run back to the safety of her room. Her wrist dangled limply in his grip, and she tugged lightly, trying to wriggle free.

That was the moment he seemed to realise he was still holding on to her, and he let go with a murmur of apology. She nodded, tapping a foot against the ground – he still looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just gave her a soft smile, one that melted her to her bones and rendered her utterly speechless.

It was like staring into the sun. “See you when I see you, then.” He made to leave, but she was struck by a sudden bolt of courage – maybe it was his smile, maybe it was the confirmation that he wanted to be her _friend_ , maybe she was just reckless and an idiot and she’d regret all this in the morning – and she lurched forward, her fingers making their way to the hem of his shirt. He stopped, glancing back at her.

There was a question in his eyes. She dug her fingers into the fabric, fisting the material. Soft cotton, soft like his eyes, like his smile – “You said you wanted to know me better?” she breathed, and his eyes widened a fraction as he nodded.

She leant up to kiss him, pulling him down by his shirt, and for a moment there was no reaction – he didn’t move, and she just stood there with her lips pressed against his, the bravery trickling out of her as time passed. He was frozen, even his breaths were still, and she wondered if she could somehow scrape up the shreds of her dignity, tear away from him and perhaps hit him on the head to make him forget –

Then his fingers wound through her hair and he was holding her against him, their kiss deepening, one hand roaming underneath her cardigan. She whimpered as he pulled at her bottom lip with his teeth, his hand crushing her waist, wrinkling her nightdress. It didn’t hurt, and he was warm, so warm, almost _hot_ , his kiss searing, everything burning where he touched – she felt her back slam against the wall, the hand in her hair cushioning her head from the blow, and already she felt dizzy.

Len was refined and polite and the very opposite of his enthusiastic, bubbly sister, but at this moment she didn’t feel any of his usual gentleness, his hands and his mouth doing wicked things to her body that _shouldn’t_ feel this good, yet they did. She didn’t know what to think about being felt up in the middle of the courtyard like this. It was difficult to act rationally. _I want him I want him I want him_.

Someone pulled away first. She wasn’t sure who it was, but then suddenly she was staring into his eyes again, and they cut to her very bone, the intensity in them so unlike anything she’d ever seen before – he pressed an open-mouthed kiss right underneath her ear, and she shivered, her sensitive skin tingling at his touch.

“I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” he murmured, still so close to her that she felt rather than heard him speak.

“You don’t want me?” she asked, her voice faint, and his gaze snapped to her, wide and startled. She fisted her fingers in her cardigan, no longer cold, but there was a growing pit in her stomach and already she regretted throwing herself at him.

“I…” He hesitated. “I do, I _do_ ,” he whispered, though it sounded almost like he had to convince himself to say those words. She swallowed, warmth stinging her eyes.

“You don’t have to force yourself just because I kissed you, you know.” Her smile was tremulous. “I mean, it was a – I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have…”

“No.” His voice was quiet, commanding, and it stopped her right there, making her toes curl. God, it was the first time she’d heard him sound this way, and she knew his voice would haunt her dreams tonight. “Don’t apologise. If you want this, then I’m more than happy to give it to you.” His eyes met hers. “Anything you want.”

She drew a deep breath, wondering if she was maybe asleep in bed, and this was all just some fantastical dream. “Okay. If you…if you don’t mind.”

“I’m very far from minding,” Len answered, and when he leant in to kiss her again, she didn’t try to pull away.


	2. Chapter 2

She was a virgin. That was something Len had asked a week after the incident in the courtyard, and she blushed and said it so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her.

His eyes widened at her confession and she half-thought that he might make fun of her for that – the way Len kissed her implied someone with _experience_ , she thought sourly – but instead, he just nodded and said nothing else about the matter.

She never asked how he felt about her, and frankly, she was frightened to know the truth. She _knew_ she was just infatuated. It was a crush, nothing more, nothing less – but she wasn’t sure how he felt, and that made the whole thing…scarier.

Was she just a fling? Did he kiss her simply because she had thrown herself at him, made herself more or less available? Did he have a _crush_ on her? But that sounded unlikely. They barely knew each other before this.

Miku was quick to admit that her main reason for liking Len was his looks. But his elegant air, the way he was so casually perfect at everything, certainly helped. And while she thought that she was at _least_ moderately attractive, there was little else about her that was particularly outstanding. Why would he feel anything for her?

It was a question that constantly niggled at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t think about that so much when he pulled her into deserted nooks and crannies on campus, his hands tangling in her hair, his mouth seeking hers.

Most days, it still felt like a dream. She didn’t tell Rin, and neither did Len, so she continued to chatter when the three of them were together, oblivious to Miku sliding a foot up Len’s leg. He took it remarkably well, his stoic face betraying not a hint of what was going on underneath the table, but later in the day he’d grab her by the arm and push her against a wall, his breath on her neck, demanding retribution.

She loved working him up like this, gently skimming his shoulder with her fingers or purring into his ear when no one was looking. It was a game of sorts, something she devised to while away the time until they could meet at night, clandestine encounters underneath the stars, her voice floating to the skies in prayer.

Len was a skilled lover. That was no surprise – they had long established that he was good at everything he put his mind to. “How many?” she asked, winding her arms around his neck, and he paused, in the middle of sucking on her shoulder.

“A few,” was all he said, and she narrowed her eyes, trying to probe for more.

“That’s too vague. A few could be five. Could be ten. Could be fifty. Make it clear.”

He sighed, evidently no longer in the mood to play with her. “Does it matter?” he asked, lifting his head to meet her gaze, and as always her breath caught at the sight of him – blue eyes like the ocean, shimmering and changing depending on how they caught the light. Right now, they were muted, almost grey-blue.

“It matters to me.” She wanted to know, though whether it was to sate her morbid curiosity or whether it was for some other reason, she wasn’t too sure.

“I had a few long-term girlfriends from the time I was separated from Rin until I entered university. Most of them lasted two years at least. You can do the math.”

She counted with her fingers. “That’s…three?” she checked, just to be sure.

“Four.” His mouth twisted slightly. “My last relationship ended because we didn’t want to go long-distance. Too much hassle, she said. I guess I agreed.”

He didn’t sound happy about it, and Miku knew better than to push. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He sighed again, his gaze flitting away from her. “It’s been months, so I’m over it now. And anyway,” he smiled, and she felt her heart thud, “if we didn’t break up I wouldn’t have known you, so I guess that was a blessing in disguise.”

“That’s so cheesy.” She giggled, and Len grinned, successfully distracted from the mention of his ex. He went back to lavishing attention on her neck, and she arched up, wrapping one leg around his waist, the other planted firmly on the mattress.

“What about you?” he asked, right after his tongue swiped beneath her jaw, making her shudder. “You never told me how many boyfriends you had.”

She fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable with this conversation. It wasn’t like she had anything to hide, but…it was kind of _embarrassing_. “One. Back in middle school. We held hands for a week, kissed once and broke up at an ice cream parlour.”

“Oh.” Len paused, and she feared she’d see him laughing at her, but instead, he was considering her with a thoughtful look in his eyes. “I’d have thought more.”

“Because of my bold, flirtatious ways?” she teased, fingering the collar of his shirt. It was unbuttoned, and her gaze raked below the sliver of skin it exposed, wondering what he might look like without his shirt on. She’d yet to see him in such a state.

Honestly, they had been pretty tame. Most of the time they just made out, and once in a while he would touch underneath her shirt, but they never did anything else. It was beginning to test her patience and she wanted more, but she didn’t know how to talk about it, so she just kept quiet and hoped he could somehow take a hint.

“No.” He looked and sounded earnest. “Because you’re beautiful. Who wouldn’t want to ask you out?” And she fell silent, her heart in her throat, wondering if he believed what he was saying, wondering if he knew what he looked like.

Len was beautiful, and while she was pretty decent, she was nowhere near his level. Guys didn’t flock to her the way girls seemed to trail after Len, whether he knew it or not. Even Rin had picked up on it, and she was constantly annoyed about all the girls who spoke to her just to find out more about her twin brother.

“Nice joke, Len,” she finally answered, though her voice trembled and she knew the smile on her face wasn’t one of her most natural. He frowned, but before he could say anything more, she yanked on his collar and pulled him back down to her, and he protested no longer.

* * *

It took two months of dancing around like this before there was any progress.

No one had clued in to their little rendezvous yet, not even Rin. That honestly surprised Miku – she figured her best friend and Len’s _twin sister_ would have said something by now, but she continued to be oblivious.

Miku wondered if Rin somehow knew and was just keeping quiet, but she pushed the thought away – she knew what Rin was like, and there was simply no way she wouldn’t bring up something so… _important_. They were two of the closest people Rin had in her life. That had to count for something, right?

She snuck over to Len’s room again that night, fumbling with the spare key he had given her – they weren’t supposed to make copies of their keys, but fuck that – and when she slipped inside, she immediately felt a pair of arms wrap around her.

Miku would have shrieked if she didn’t know exactly who was standing behind her. “Len,” she started, but before she could continue his mouth was covering hers and she forgot what she’d wanted to say. He was exceptionally intense today, and when she felt the back of her knees hit his bed she teetered, unsure whether she should let go so easily – but he made a soft sound, almost like a growl, and she melted.

“What’s wrong?” she asked when she finally surfaced, her arms wrapped around his waist. He was hardly ever this passionate, and she could _sense_ he wasn’t quite himself today, wasn’t as careful and put-together as he usually was.

He exhaled, and when he looked at her his eyes were dark. “Just kind of stressed,” he admitted, and that made her think about what could possibly stress _Len_ out.

“Want to talk about it?” she offered, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. She could feel him beneath her fingers, stiff with tension.

Len shook his head. “I just want to forget about it,” he said, his voice hoarser than she was used to, and she gasped when he knelt before her, gently prying her knees apart – she felt his lips ghost her inner thigh and she shivered, her hands shooting towards his hair. He glanced up at her, eyes still dark. “May I?”

She nodded, her heart in her throat, and Len peppered kisses against the delicate flesh, making her bite back a moan. This was embarrassing to watch but she was unable to tear her gaze away, unable to look elsewhere as he pushed her skirt up and exposed her thin cotton panties. His tongue ran over warm skin and she cried out, unused to the sensation of him being _there_ – he exhaled, his fingers dancing across her thighs, and already she felt like she was about to combust.

He’d barely even touched her. But this almost felt better than her hands, her fingers pushing her to completion. “Len,” she whispered, and he looked up at her, some strange emotion in his eyes – she wanted to linger on it, wanted to suss out what he might be thinking, but then his tongue flicked out, delicate and searching, over her panties and she arched into him, her mind going blank.

Len took his time, teasing her through the thin cotton material, and before long she was so wet that her soaked panties were starting to feel uncomfortable. She wound her fingers through his hair, pulling as gently as she could, trying not to tense up too much, but then he pushed his tongue against her clit through the damp fabric and she groaned, her head lolling back onto his bed.

It wasn’t so much pleasure as it was white-hot bolts of _feeling_ , electricity radiating from her sex to the rest of her body. She felt like a live wire ready to trip.

“Stop _teasing_ ,” she tried to say, but it came out as little more than a whimper. Len chuckled against her clothed sex, and the vibrations shot straight into her groin, making her feet flex. “Just get a move on already,” she managed to groan.

He fixed her with a stare, one eyebrow raised, but he didn’t protest – instead, his fingers pushed her underwear aside, and she shivered as her sex was exposed to the cool air. Then she was moaning and trembling again, this time for a different reason as he resumed licking and sucking her clit, no more annoying layer in the way, and she swore she could see stars floating behind her eyelids.

Len laved his tongue against her, and her hips jerked, an instinctive response. He slid his hands down from her knees to curl around her thighs, her legs resting on his shoulders, preventing her from moving – then he attacked her with renewed vigour and she jolted, flinging her hand over her eyes, quiet curses ripping out of her mouth. He was relentless, swirling his tongue around her clit, down to her wet sex, and when he slid a finger inside her she twisted, trying to push him off.

 _God_. He felt so good. She didn’t know it was possible to feel this good. Had never imagined just how _different_ it would be to have someone else’s hands on her. He hummed against her, sounding satisfied, and his finger slipped in and out, setting up a steady rhythm that soon had her whimpering, his name falling from her lips.

When he sucked on her clit while sliding another finger in, knuckle-deep, she came so hard that she was sure she passed out for a second.

Her breaths were quick, shallow, and her eyelids fluttered. “Len, I can’t, I _can’t_ , it’s too sensitive,” she panted, and he raised his head, looking at her, pupils dilated.

“One more,” he whispered, his lips glistening with her wetness. “One more for me.” And she wanted to shake her head no, wanted to say no more, but then his mouth was back on her and he was curling his fingers in _just_ the right way, and she could feel the pressure mounting again, fluttering low in her belly, threatening to unfurl.

When she came this time it was with a sob and a broken murmur of his name, and it was only then that he finally relented, pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of each thigh as she shook. He crawled up her body to seek out her mouth, and she could taste herself on him, slightly musky, a scent that made her nose twitch.

He was careful not to let his lower body press on her, and when she recovered she tilted her head, trying to look, trying to figure out why – her gaze landed on the bulge in his pants and heat instantly flooded her cheeks. Now she knew.

“Do you…need help?” she asked. A mix of desire and curiosity swirled within her, but Len shook his head, his hand finding her chin and tilting her face back to him. His eyes were still dark, still _wanting_ , but he kissed her long and deep and all she could do was lose herself in him, her arms instinctively looping around his neck.

And from then on, every time she came to his room, he’d undo her with his hands and his tongue and she dizzily wondered what _more_ might feel like.


	3. Chapter 3

"Thanks, Gumo!” she called, waving at her classmate. He waved back with a smile and a wink, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and she watched him go.

“Who’s that?” She turned her head to see Len walking up to her, glancing towards where Gumo had gone. He didn’t look happy, and her heart jumped in her chest.

“A classmate of mine. We’re in the same group for one of our projects, so we were discussing that.” She gave him a playful look, leaning closer. “You’re not _jealous_ of him, are you?” she asked, her voice lilting. Len just sighed.

“No, of course not. We’re not…” He hesitated, and she waited for him to continue, her head tipped to one side. “You and I. We’re not anything, really. Are we?”

He sounded like he was asking a question. Asking her. She swallowed, her earlier good mood dissipating – what _were_ they? She never gave much thought to it, and apparently neither had Len. At least not until this moment.

They were still sneaking around, still furtive. Still afraid of getting caught. There was an element of secrecy to their relationship, and while she knew he probably wouldn’t _mind_ going public about it, she was – she was too afraid. Too afraid of what Rin might think. Too afraid of being compared to him, when he was so, so perfect and she was nothing. Too afraid of being left behind in Len’s shadow.

“We’re friends,” she finally said, staring at the ground, and she missed how his eyes darkened at her statement, how his hand reached towards her before he changed his mind and let it fall back to his side. When she glanced up, Len was back to his usual self, smiling gently, his blue eyes placid.

“Friends,” he agreed. She grinned, bopping him on the nose before she twirled around and skipped away, and he stood quietly where she’d left him, thinking.

* * *

It was going to be Christmas soon. One semester had flown by, and within weeks the next would roll around, stalking her like some monster from her nightmares.

But for now, she was _free_ from school, free from her academic obligations, and that was good enough for her. She clinked her glass of wine to Rin’s, drinking merrily as they gossiped in her room together with the other girls who chose to stay behind.

Rin never went home for Christmas. _The flight tickets aren’t worth it when it’s only one month_ , she said. Miku usually would return home, but this year her family had decided to go overseas to a country she was tired of visiting, so she skipped.

Len was on campus too. She’d seen him outside this morning, building a snowman with some other people from his dorm, and when he met her gaze he gave her that soft smile he seemed to reserve especially for her – she was still staring at him when a snowball smacked her head, to the sounds of Rin and Gumo’s raucous laughter.

Gumo had become a pretty good friend ever since they got into the same group a few months back. If she wasn’t with Rin, she was with Gumo, and while it _did_ kind of feel like she was neglecting Len, she argued with herself that if he felt anything about it he’d come to her. He hadn’t, so she guessed he was perfectly fine.

Besides, he had his own group of friends. Them sneaking around had probably been cutting into his social life. She thought about his smile, about the way his gaze lingered on her whenever they passed by each other in the hallway. Then she heard someone calling her name, and that snapped her out of her daydreams.

“Miku! Quit spacing out! It’s your turn!” Rin hiccupped, smacking her hand on the floor next to the empty bottle. Miku rolled her eyes. Here they were, a bunch of university-aged girls, playing stupid games like Spin the Bottle. How exciting.

“Truth,” she drawled, knowing better than to pick dare when Rin was waggling her eyebrows at her that way. Her best friend fell back, disappointed, but one of the other girls picked up where she left off, leaning forward in eager anticipation.

“Who’s your _crush_?” she squealed, and Miku tensed as Rin’s lips slowly curved upwards, looking positively devious.

“That’s such a dumb question. What are we, twelve?” she tried, but the other girls just booed and threw chocolate wrappers at her until she held up her hands in surrender. “Fine, fine! I’ll admit it! My crush…my crush…” She would _not_ say Len's name. No way in hell. Not even Rin’s silent threat could change her mind. “Gumo.”

The girls gasped as one, and Rin blinked, staring confusedly at her. She avoided her best friend’s gaze. “How long?” the original asker continued, and Miku shrugged.

“Um, ever since we started working on that project together. Yeah.” They all giggled before promptly moving on to the next victim, and she spun the bottle, her hand moving all on its own, her mind somewhere far away. Gumo. She didn’t know why she said his name, but it sounded safe – he didn’t have any feelings for her and they were close enough that it wouldn’t be embarrassing to tell him what transpired here.

She barely paid any attention to the rest of the game, and after a while, she could no longer bear the atmosphere, desperately craving a quiet space so she could sort out the mess in her head. She excused herself, darting out into the empty hallway.

Then slender fingers rested on her shoulder and she jumped, her body going stiff. “What happened, Miku?” It was Rin, and she sounded concerned.

Miku let her shoulders sag, the tension leaving her immediately. “Why do you ask?” she answered, not quite wanting to divulge what was on her mind. Rin sighed.

“Look. We’ve been friends since high school, right? We don’t have to confess every secret we have to each other, but I know _most_ things, and I sure as hell know that you’re not crushing on Gumo. Is it that embarrassing to admit you like Len?”

She threw up her hands, frustrated. “I don’t know. Maybe it kind of is.” She didn’t mean to sound so annoyed and she snuck a peek at her best friend, afraid of her reaction – Rin didn’t seem to mind, and she took a deep breath. “He’s just so…I don’t know. So out of my league. He’s perfect in every way, and it’s so damn _unfair_.”

“First of all, I’ll pass on the fact that you called my brother perfect. Because he’s really not.” Rin snorted. “You should see the way he behaves at home.”

“That’s not the point. I mean, we all have flaws, yeah.” Miku flushed. “But Len. Len is – how do I put it?” She paused. “He’s everything I’ve ever dreamt of, and I just…” She hung her head, fiddling with the hem of her blouse. “I don’t know how to deal with my feelings. I don’t _want_ them.”

“So you don’t want Len?” Rin’s gaze was searching, questioning, and in that very moment, she looked _exactly_ like her brother. It made Miku very uncomfortable.

“It’s not that I don’t want him.” She looked down at her hands, her palms upturned, and thought about his fingers wrapping around her wrists, tracing delicate patterns over her skin. “I don’t think I deserve him.”

“Oh, Miku.” And Rin didn’t say anything else, tackling her in a hug. She breathed in her best friend’s perfume, the warmth of red wine, and she could feel it tickle the back of her throat, taste it on her tongue. Things were so much easier when it was just her and Rin, and she wondered if she ought to resent Len for complicating her life, for complicating everything. Then she thought about his ocean eyes, the way they glimmered in the sun, the way they smiled for her and only her.

No, it was too hard to hate Len. She couldn’t. “Promise me you won’t say a _single_ word to him,” she mumbled. “Not a single word.”

She could practically see Rin’s ever-present white bow twitching. “Ugh. Seriously? You have no idea how much grief I’m in from seeing you all mopey. I can always pop over and ask him, you know. He’s my _brother_. He’d tell me anything.”

“Yes, he would, and that’s absolutely what I’m afraid of.” She shook her head, eyes pleading. “I don’t want to know. Call me a coward, but I just _don’t want_ to know.”

Rin hesitated. “Fine. Sure. If you don’t want to, then I’ll stay by you in solidarity and not ask him anything either. Though I’m super curious right now.”

“About what? He doesn’t have any feelings for me.” And she was quite sure he could find someone far better than her if he wanted to. It was a miracle he was still single.

Rin hummed. “Hm. You think so?” Miku met her gaze, confused, and she shrugged, puffing out her cheeks. Her face was still red from the alcohol. “Doesn’t seem that way to me. Have you noticed the way he looks at you?”

“Yeah. He smiles at me. But he smiles at just about everybody, Rin.”

“No, no. He looks at you differently.” Rin frowned. “I can’t explain it, but he doesn’t smile like that for just anyone. It’s almost as though you two share a secret.”

Her heart seemed to clench at those words, caving in painfully on itself. She almost reached up to press her hand against her chest but resisted in the nick of time. “Is that so? I think you might be reading too much into things.”

“You can say that to anyone else, but I’m his sister. Twin connection, you know?” She tapped her temple. “Plus, I don’t want to hear you making any assumptions about love and romance, Miss Ice Cream Parlour.”

She flushed. “That’s such a low blow!” she cried.

Rin giggled. “It distracted you, didn’t it?” she asked, and Miku realised she had a giant grin on her face, a laugh threatening to bubble out of her mouth. Rin’s blue eyes softened. “You’ll have to deal with your feelings someday, you know. He’s not just some random guy on campus. He’s my _brother_. And he’ll be my brother forever.”

“You’re assuming we’ll be best friends forever, too,” Miku pointed out, though she buried her face in Rin’s hair, letting the gesture take away the edge of her words.

“Won’t we?” she retorted, and they laughed together, their voices floating through the hallway. Miku thought that even if everything else imploded and nothing went right, at least she still had Rin’s friendship. And that was what mattered to her.

* * *

When school reopened, she didn’t see much of Len. She assumed he might still be busy sorting out his timetable – Rin mentioned that he wasn't able to get a few classes he wanted over their winter break, so she paid his absence no mind.

She was happy she managed to get into the same few classes as Rin and Gumo and some of her other friends. It was nice to have company – in her first semester she’d ended up taking modules where she knew _no one_ , and while she did eventually make friends, the first couple of weeks had been downright horrible. She shuddered.

Now, as she compared her notes with Gumo – they were sitting at the cafeteria, him pointedly ignoring the giggling girls as they walked past (how did everyone already seem to _know_ about the stupid rumour?) – she glanced up and saw a familiar head of blond hair in the distance, and she immediately looked down, her face flaming.

“Huh? What’s going on, Miku?” Gumo asked. Loudly. She shushed him in the hopes that Len hadn’t noticed them, but Gumo seemed incapable of subtlety. “Is there a bug or something? Do you want me to kill it for you?”

“Gumo, shut up! I’m avoiding someone! Take the hint!” she hissed, and he made a small sound of realisation, hiding his head behind his open textbook.

But it was too late, and when she glimpsed someone standing in front of their table, she couldn’t help but sigh to herself, tipping her head back so that she could meet his gaze. Len was staring at her, and for once she didn’t see any smile on his face.

“How was your Christmas, Len?” She decided to be the bigger person. Someone had to start the conversation, and Len didn’t look like he wanted to open his mouth.

“It was fine.” His voice was quiet, affable. She was reminded of him murmuring silky words of praise in her ear and she had to pinch her thigh to distract herself. “I got a fever a couple of days ago, but besides that nothing eventful happened.”

“A fever?” She blinked, wondering why he didn’t tell her. She felt awful for assuming he’d just taken a few days off to sort out his timetable. He was _sick_. And Rin didn’t mention anything to her either! “Are you feeling okay? Should you be outside?”

“I’m fine now. It’s run its course. Just a mild case of flu, nothing terrible.” He smiled and she paused, seeing the familiar gentle curve of his lips, imagining how it might fit against her neck. “Rin told me that you two went on a shopping excursion.”

“Um, yeah. We did.” She fiddled with her notes, unsure what to do with her hands. “Last week! There were a lot of sales, we bought bath bombs and perfume and um, some other girly things –” That elicited a snort from Gumo, and she hit him on the back of his head, making him pout. Len watched the whole exchange, impassive.

“You need to be less violent,” Gumo complained. “Or no one will want to date you.”

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear you talking. Just study,” she commanded, and sulkily he did as she said – her lips tilted up nevertheless, enjoying his ridiculous antics. But when she turned to Len, something unfamiliar flitted through his eyes and she flinched, taken aback when he met her gaze. It was dark and molten and there was that flicker of heat in her belly, curling low, making her _want_ –

“I’ll see you around,” he said, his voice even, and she snapped out of her trance, a tiny gasp escaping her as he walked away from their table.

Gumo looked at her sympathetically. “You’ve got it _real_ bad,” he said, and she just shot him another glare, flicking his forehead with her fingers.

“No one asked for your opinion,” she answered, and he rolled his eyes, highlighting entire paragraphs of text in his notebook. She wanted to tell him that he might as well dunk his notes in yellow paint, that might be more efficient, but the memory of Len’s stare flickered through her mind and she felt her quip die in her throat.

Later, she asked Rin about Len’s fever. Rin just shrugged and said “ _he told me not to say anything to you_ ” and she wondered why he would do something like that.


	4. Chapter 4

She was walking down a corridor, minding her own business when a hand reached out from behind a door and grabbed her arm, pulling her into an empty classroom.

Miku yelped, whipping around to see who dared to manhandle her this way, and was greeted by the sight of Len closing the door behind them, his face unreadable. Her complaint sizzled and died as she stared at him, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Len?” she said, the first sound that came out of her, and she winced – she sounded like an idiot. Of course it was him, who else could it be?

He took a deep breath, hesitating, his eyes searching hers, and she thought maybe she could drown in him one day, drown in those beautiful eyes that looked just like the ocean, and she realised how long it’d been since they were last alone.

Before Christmas break, she remembered. That point where he asked her what they were. After that, things seemed to keep popping up and before long, it’d been at least two months since they last had any privacy. Two long, cold months.

God, no wonder it had felt like something was missing. Her fingers curled into fists by her sides. “What do you want?” she said, trying to force it out of him – he bit his lip, perfect white teeth peeking over plump, pink flesh, and she was seized by the urge to kiss him, to throw herself at him and let his taste sear itself into her mouth –

“I missed you,” he whispered, and she fell silent, snatched out of her idle fantasies, unsure what she could say. “I just wanted to talk. The way we used to. Even if we’re not…” He paused, and she heard him clear his throat. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we’re friends,” she agreed, confused. He sighed, and her frown deepened. If that wasn’t the answer he wanted, then what _did_ he want?

“And friends talk, right?” he checked. She nodded slowly, his questions doing little to ease her uncertainty, and after a few painful seconds, he looked up at her with a gorgeous smile gracing his lips, the kind of smile that made all the girls she knew swoon over him. But she didn’t like it. That wasn’t _her_ smile. It was too forced.

“How was your Christmas? Tell me everything,” he said, settling into a nearby chair and patting the seat beside him. She sank onto the hard plastic, questions rampant in her mind, but he nodded encouragingly at her so she put those questions aside for now, deciding to just go with the flow.

“Well, I spent Christmas on campus, the same as Rin. We didn’t do much, honestly. Our dorm was super festive, we kept going out together to parties and to shop and stuff but I preferred to stay indoors most of the time. I managed to strike a few books off my reading list, so I’m pretty proud of that. How about you?”

He hummed. “Similar to you. I was mostly indoors. I think the winter chill doesn’t work too well for me…oh, I never mentioned, right? My mum and I live further south, so we don’t get a lot of snow. I’m not used to it.”

“Pity. I love winter,” she laughed. “It’s the prettiest season! So cold, and the snow is nice. Until people start trudging through it and it becomes all grey and gross.”

His lips quirked up. “The ice is super slippery, though. I think I’ve fallen more times than I can count in the past week alone.”

“You need a good pair of winter boots. You should come shopping with me and Rin some time, we’ll get you something stylish,” she promised with a wink.

“I’d like that.” There was a gentle glow to his blue eyes, making them look almost iridescent, and her breath hitched when she realised just how close they were. He was leaning towards her, a question in his gaze, and she swallowed.

It was fast becoming hard to think. Her mind was all muddled. “I feel like you’re avoiding me,” she blurted out, and he stilled. “You don’t try to kiss me. We don’t sneak around the school or go to your room. We don’t ever do… _anything_.”

A million emotions ran over his face, and she couldn’t identify a single one of them. Finally, he settled on something that looked like resignation and he hung his head, his fingers splayed over his knee. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, let it intertwine with hers, but she held herself back, sensing that he needed time.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” he murmured, voice low and quiet. Almost pleading, though she couldn’t imagine why. “I stopped because it seemed like the right thing to do, but now you’re asking me this and I…” His voice trailed off, and he bit his lip, exhaling. “I’m too greedy to say no if you offer me a choice, Miku.”

“Then be greedy,” she answered, the simplest solution in the world. “I never told you we should stop, so there’s no need to hold yourself back, is there?”

He looked at her, his eyes wide, and she leant in to kiss him, the familiar taste of him making her moan into his mouth. He held her, hands instinctively wrapping around her waist, and for a while all she could feel was _Len_. His hands sliding up her body, dipping cautiously beneath her shirt as though he thought she might change her mind – she huffed, grabbing his hand and placing it firmly on her bare skin. His grip on her tightened, almost to the point of pain.

“Please, _please_.” He parted from her, begging in a whisper – for what, she had no idea, but what she _did_ know was that he could be putting that sinfully talented mouth to better use so she grabbed his face and pulled him back to her, and that was when he finally relented, kissing her until all she knew was him, his touch on her skin, his taste on her tongue. She couldn’t imagine anything better than this.

* * *

“No. Wait.” He looked up, already falling to his knees before her, and she propped her legs on his shoulders, holding his stare. His eyes were so blue. Incandescent.

“Do you not want…?” He was careful, placing his hands on her legs, sliding them up and down her calves, soothing. She flexed her feet with a happy sigh.

“Everything. I want everything tonight.” His eyes widened, and she knew the gravity of her words, remembered what he had promised her a long, long time ago – back when they were still new to this, back when she’d yearned for something more than simple kissing and gentle pats.

After he found out she was a virgin he promised that he’d take things at her pace and he would _never_ push her into something she wasn’t ready for. He made good on that promise, going so maddeningly slow that by now, she was tired of waiting.

“I-I don’t have a condom,” he stuttered, the first time she’d seen his composure crack. She laughed, sliding down so that she could cup his face in her hands.

“I’m on the pill,” she whispered, studying the way his eyelashes trembled, the way desire shot through his eyes, turning them dark. It was exhilarating to know that _she_ made him feel this way, this beautiful man who could have anyone he wanted.

But he still didn’t pounce on her, not the way she imagined he might after she let slip her illuminating secret. Instead, he hesitated. “Are you sure?” He looked afraid, almost conflicted, and she wondered what he was thinking. “When you…” His gaze darted away from her, and he wet his lips, his fingers curling into her flesh.

“Why not?” She couldn’t understand him. Here she was, practically offering herself to him, and he didn’t want her. Was she that unlikeable? But he never seemed to mind situating himself between her legs, driving her to wicked heights of pleasure with his mouth and his fingers. “I mean, if _you_ don’t want to, then that’s okay.”

“No, no. I want to,” he answered, too quick. “I want to. I just had to make sure that _you_ wanted this as well.” His gaze flitted up, capturing hers, and her breath caught. “I don’t want you to have any regrets when you…if you…”

“I promise I won’t have any regrets,” she said. “Is that enough to convince you?”

He exhaled, a shuddering breath. “You put up a rigorous argument,” he answered. “And if that’s truly what you want, then you’ll need this.” 

Before she could question what _this_ referred to, Len leant forward, hooking his fingers in her panties and sliding them down. She gasped, startled by the suddenness of his actions, but then he slipped his hand across her thighs and when he touched her, she jerked into his palm, already eager for him.

Her body was primed to his touch, and the heated murmur in her belly coiled towards him, wanting. Len slid two fingers inside her, and she sucked him in, greedy for more – his mouth joined his hand and she hissed, her legs tensing on his shoulders.

But she didn’t want him to bring her to completion with his tongue today. She knew he could if he wanted to, knew that he was more than capable of building her up and tearing her down with his fingers alone – but she wanted _him_. All of him, and she reached out to him, tugging at his hair, trying to remind him of her request.

Len lifted his head, and his eyes were blazing. For once they didn’t look like the ocean; they looked like the hottest flame, bright and consuming, and she shivered under the sheer _intensity_ of him, the desperation she could feel rolling off him in waves. “I have to,” he said, his voice shaking. “So that it won’t hurt when you take me later.”

Her lips parted at his explanation, and she nodded, falling back onto her elbows. She could feel the familiar waves of pleasure cresting – it never took him long to bring her to orgasm, especially when he put his mind to it, and when she shuddered, his name leaving her lips, he rose from the floor, leaning in to meld their mouths together.

“Take off your shirt,” she mumbled against him, her fingers scratching at thin cotton. He obliged, and she drank him in, satisfied in the knowledge that she alone could see him like this – he was so beautiful, lean and lithe and he was watching her with that unfamiliar look in his eyes, dark and whispering of danger. It made her burn.

But she blinked, wondering about something that had been on her mind for a while. “Um, you know, in these past few months,” she said, catching his attention, “did you ever…well, sleep with anyone else?”

They’d never done anything besides getting her off. She couldn’t blame him if he had to find satisfaction elsewhere, though the idea left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“No!” He looked scandalised at the thought. “After you, how could I – no.” She barely noticed the way he retracted his words, simply relieved at the firm denial he presented, and she leant towards him, trying to memorise the feeling of his skin against hers. He drew closer, and she snaked her hand downwards, trying to undo his belt.

Stupid piece of clothing. Completely unnecessary. She struggled with it for a moment, then Len chuckled, covering her hand with his. He gently removed her, unbuckling his belt, and when he took off the rest of his clothing all she could do was stare.

It was the first time she had seen _this_ part of the male anatomy. She wondered if it would even fit inside her. “Can I touch?” she asked. Len nodded, and she heard him inhale when she crawled over the bed, her hand reaching towards his length.

He felt like satin-wrapped steel, hard and soft at the same time, and she gripped him in her hand, unsure what to do next. She stroked over the tip, moving her hand gently up and down, and Len groaned, a low, throaty sound – it seemed like he was enjoying it, so she continued her ministrations, figuring out what to do based on the sounds he was making. “Is this good? Am I doing good?” she whispered, seeking affirmation.

“Yes. So good,” he murmured, resting a hand on her head, stroking through her hair. That gave her ideas, and she smiled at him, a mischievous smile that had him tensing before she dipped down and let her tongue flick against the tip.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Len hissed, the first time she’d ever heard him swear, and she delighted in the way he moaned for her when she took him further inside her mouth. She had no idea what she was doing, simply sliding her tongue up and down, swirling over the shaft, but Len seemed to enjoy everything she did, so she closed her eyes and sucked, drawing more sighs and quiet groans out of him.

She knew she was probably nowhere as good as he was – she doubted she could bring him to completion as quickly as he did her – but she tried her best to please him anyway, her hand wrapping around the parts of him her mouth couldn’t reach.

Then she pushed further, taking him in as deep as she could, and she tried not to gag when he hit the back of her throat, her eyes beginning to water. She was rewarded with a whimper, and warmth rose in her chest, satisfaction making her giddy.

Gentle. She was gentle, and when Len shivered and fisted her hair, guiding her head back and forth, she allowed him to lead, trying her best not to use teeth. She was half-hoping he’d spill inside her mouth, but then suddenly he slid out of her and she was gasping for air, her gaze flicking up to meet his – Len stared at her, breathing hard, and when he leant close she forgot her name, filled with so much _want_.

“Can I have you?” He sounded like he was begging, his voice threatening to break. She nodded, spreading her legs for him, and Len drew a deep breath, lining himself up with her sex. He paused, his lips moving soundlessly – she wondered if he was saying a prayer, perhaps – before he _pushed_ and she cried out, her eyes widening.

He didn’t take her completely, not right away. He was slow and tender and _loving_ and she stretched towards him, her fingers reaching, searching. His hands intertwined with hers and he pressed her into the mattress, his lips roaming across her throat, nuzzling against her pulse. “Tell me if it hurts. Tell me if you want me to stop.”

She nodded, unable to find her voice, and Len closed his eyes, steadying himself. When he pushed again she could feel him entering, spreading her apart, and she flexed her feet, reminding herself to take deep breaths. It didn’t _hurt_ , not exactly – it was almost like the feeling she got when she tried to touch her toes without warming up. Not painful, just mildly uncomfortable. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured.

Miku bit back a whimper. “I want you,” she told him, and he looked at her, his bangs hanging over his forehead, his skin glistening under the lights. He pushed further in, finally sheathing himself fully within her, and she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist, trying to get used to the sensation of _him_. His body, his heat, his scent.

“Tell me when I can move,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. She sighed, her breath fluttering against his neck, and he waited for her, longing in his eyes.

“You can move now,” she finally told him, having adjusted to the newfound fullness, and Len hissed at the prompt, pulling his hips back and snapping them forward. She cried out, jolts of pleasure radiating up from her sex, and his grip on her tightened, sudden desperation darkening his eyes – he buried his face in her neck, his mouth sucking on the gentle curve of her shoulder, and she turned her head away, biting her lip so hard she thought it might draw blood.

His thrusts were long and slow, hitting a point inside her that made her head thrash and her eyes water. She wasn’t sure whether sex was meant to feel this good, whether she was lucky that she didn’t have to go through the same awkward first times some of her other friends had – all she knew was that Len was with her, and Len was gentle and patient and there was so much _love_ in his eyes, an emotion that didn’t seem like it should be directed at her. Did he love her? Weren’t they just…friends?

But it was hard to think, to question when she was spread underneath him like this, so she gave up on that line of thought, simply letting herself go into the oblivion that he promised, the chasm that would make her body tremble and her mind go blank.

When he quickened his pace, he drew mewls and whimpers out of her, embarrassing sounds she’d have hated to hear had she been lucid enough to care – as it was, she dove for his pillow, trying to hide her face beneath it, trying to avoid looking at him.

The pillow didn’t last long. Slightly less than ten seconds passed before Len snatched it out of her hands, tossing it behind him. “I…I want to see you,” he panted, his voice strained, and she couldn’t possibly deny such an earnest request so she tilted her face up, meeting his gaze. His hands palmed her breasts, diving underneath her blouse – stupid her, why didn’t she remove her shirt earlier? – and when he flicked his thumb over her nipple she tensed, a moan rising in the back of her throat.

Len seemed to know exactly what her body needed, what she was craving for, and he didn’t allow her the slightest bit of reprieve, constantly pushing and pulling, trying to pleasure her blind. “Miku, _Miku_ ,” he whispered, and she reached for him, looping her arms around his neck. Her fingers fluttered along the back of his head, stroking his hair – it was silky, and she clutched him close, pressing their foreheads together.

“I’m…I’m going to – Len!” she gasped, her arms tightening, trying to melt into him as her entire body trembled. He slammed his hips into her, driving in deep, and her whole world seemed to tilt, a little gasp escaping her at the overwhelming _desire_ that coursed through her body. _La petite mort_ , they called it. Her little death.

Len growled low in her ear, an animalistic sound she’d never have imagined passing through his lips, his movements frantic, almost sloppy as he chased his release. She let out murmurs of encouragement, capturing his face between her hands, her body clenching tight around him, and when he came, it was with a cry of her name, his head hanging over her as he struggled to catch his breath. Her sex throbbed, and he was so warm, so _Len_ – she wished she could keep him with her forever.

“Stay,” he finally said, gathering her in his arms and rolling them onto their sides so that they were facing each other. “Stay with me.” And he looked so vulnerable that her chest ached – she nodded, and his lips curved upwards, gentle, relieved.

 _I love you_. Three words that could have rolled so naturally off her tongue at this point, but she wasn’t quite ready. Not ready for that level of commitment, not ready for the possibility of rejection. So she swallowed them and ran her fingers through his hair, watching his eyes slowly close at her touch, and she wondered how he felt about her.


	5. Chapter 5

After that night, their sessions changed. Something about them felt almost desperate, but she could never quite figure out why. Could never understand why Len touched her with the yearning heat of a lover, why he whispered sweet nothings in her ear with the fervent adoration of prayer.

She continued to attend her classes with Gumo and Rin, and she couldn’t help but notice that whenever Len saw her with Gumo, he was always quick to excuse himself. She wondered if he was jealous of Gumo for taking up her time, whether he desired more of her attention, but it always seemed so presumptuous to think that.

It was tempting to ask Rin for advice, but Rin was busy with her sports and her social life and Miku didn’t want to dampen her spirits with her stupid love problems. And it wasn’t even _love_ , was it? She and Len weren’t in a romantic relationship, not exactly. She didn’t know what to call it. Friends with benefits sounded like the closest fit.

But the way he looked at her was filled with too much longing for him to simply be a friend. Unless she was somehow misinterpreting his lingering stares. Which, given her relative lack of experience, was also entirely possible. She didn’t dare to make any assumptions, and confronting Len directly was simply out of the question.

Miku flopped on the table, tired of thinking. Relationships were supposed to be easy – or at least, _friendship_ was. Friendships could be maintained by her putting in the effort to talk to the other person, to gush over shared interests, to arrange outings and dinners. But this…whatever it was they had, it was completely different and she had no idea what to do with it.

“Something on your mind?” Gumo placed a takeaway cup on her table and she looked up with a smile, grateful for his company. He was good at helping her forget her worries, even if only temporarily, and she took the cup with a murmur of thanks. Opening the lid, she inhaled. A caramel latte, _precisely_ what she’d been craving.

She sipped the sugary latte, the warmth of it going down her throat and spreading to her fingers and toes. It was still pretty chilly, though there was slightly less snowfall nowadays, and any hot drink was welcome. “Kind of.” She paused, then put her coffee down and glanced at her friend. “Have you ever had a friend with benefits?”

Gumo spluttered, and she sat back, concerned, watching him thump his chest with his fist. Finally, he managed to catch his breath, though it looked like his eyes were still watering. “ _What_ a question, Miku. That came out of fucking nowhere.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t think it was a sensitive topic.”

“It’s not sensitive. I just didn’t think I'd ever hear _you_ asking about it.” Gumo snorted. “Have you even dated before? I heard something about an ice cream parlour.”

She was sure her face was noticeably red by now. “Did Rin tell you that? Ignore her.”

“It was quite convincing…” He saw the look on her face and he laughed, a lazy chuckle that could probably seduce at least half of the female population here. There was no denying that Nakajima Gumo was a very, _very_ attractive man, and sometimes she wondered if her life would have been easier if she’d just fallen for him instead.

After all, she and Gumo got along like a house on fire. He was quick-witted chaos and creativity, an artist through and through – what else should she expect from a Graphic Design major? Good fashion sense, a smile like sin and a sense of humour that was just slightly _off_ from what was considered mainstream.

Gumo would have been the perfect boyfriend. At least, perfect for _her_ – good, but not so amazing that people would question how she managed to get him. She sighed, grinding the heel of her hand against her pounding temple. No, she shouldn’t think about Gumo this way. He wasn’t a commodity to be bartered; he was her _friend_.

A friend who was now staring at her with concern in his sunlit eyes. “You okay, Miku? Thought you seemed a little down recently,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” she answered; an automatic response. “But back to my question. About the friends with benefits?” she added, noticing the faint look of confusion on his face.

“Ah. That.” Gumo looked reluctant to say more, and she was about to tell him that it was okay, he didn’t need to elaborate if he didn’t want to, when he opened his mouth once again. “Yeah, I had a few. It’s common, I guess. But they never end up well.”

“Oh. Really?” She paused. He gave a noncommittal shrug, and she narrowed her eyes. “You don’t just say things like that and move on. Tell me more!”

“Ugh. You’re annoying,” he muttered. His green eyes lifted to meet hers, appraising. “Why, do you want a friend with benefits? I’d be more than willing, sweetheart.”

She ignored his comment, not wanting to give him ammunition to use against her. He was irritating enough as it was. “Nope. Just zero in on the drawbacks, please.”

Gumo propped his chin on the back of his hand, still studying her like she was the most interesting thing in the world, and she couldn’t help but shiver. His gaze was so intense, and all of a sudden she was reminded of Len. “Well, when it comes to a friend with benefits arrangement, it’s inevitable. One person will catch feelings.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?” she wondered aloud. “I mean, so long as they don’t act upon it? And what if the other person is in love with them, too?”

“There’s a reason it’s a _friend_ with benefits, though. Not boyfriend slash girlfriend or a potential love interest. It’s not supposed to be a romantic thing. Just sex.”

She pouted. “It’s normal to fall in love with someone you’re intimate with. Isn’t it?”

“I guess? But again, that’s not the point of such an arrangement.” He leant closer, and she noticed that his green eyes were flecked with light, reminding her of a blooming meadow in spring. “None of the _friends_ I had ever lasted. Either they’d fall for me, or I’d fall for them, and the result? Chaos and heartbreak.” He shrugged.

“I can’t imagine you falling in love with anyone,” she said, and Gumo fell back against his chair, looking wounded. She laughed at his exaggerated despair. “I mean, _you_?”

“What? What are you trying to imply about me?” he demanded, and she scrunched up a paper ball and threw it at his head, giggling the whole time. Gumo ducked, just narrowly missing the projectile, before he reached over and began to jab at her ribs, ignoring her shrieks and apologies. “You’re a pain in the ass, Miku! I don’t even know why we’re friends!” he all but yelled, still trying to target her vulnerable areas.

“Because…because you _love_ me!” she gasped, clutching her sides and finally flopping out of her seat. Gumo stared impassively down at her, collapsed on the floor, before he cracked a smile and extended a hand, helping her clamber back onto her chair.

“Do I love you?” he mused. “I think I just got close to you to copy off your homework.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. We both know there are smarter people to leech off. Copying my assignments will just drag down your GPA.” And who was he even kidding? They only shared _two_ classes this semester, neither of which had regular homework.

“Why are you always so suspicious of me?” he groused. “Give me a break. I’ve been nothing but honest all this time.” Playfulness glimmered in his eyes, and she was speechless for a moment, transfixed by those pretty, pretty shades of summer green.

Why was she only noticing _now_ how good-looking he was? She shook her head, trying to snap herself out of it. His smile dimmed as he waited for her to retort, and she cleared her throat, drumming her fingers against the table. “You’re honest, you say.”

“Uh-huh.” He cocked his head, eyes alight with curiosity. “Why, want an honest opinion? You’ve come to the right guy.”

“Why does no one want to date me?” she wondered aloud.

Gumo noticeably flinched. “You’re asking _me_?” he said, pointing at himself, and she turned towards him, narrowing her eyes. He cleared his throat, straightening in his seat as he put on his serious face. “I can think of a few reasons, sweetheart.”

She frowned, a silent indication for him to carry on, and so he did. “It’s not that you’re unattractive or anything. Far from it,” he began. “You’re smart and hilarious and you’re so easy to talk to. I’ve heard people wondering why you don't have a boyfriend.”

“Believe me, that’s something I wonder myself every single day,” she muttered. His lips quirked up. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Please continue praising me.”

“Nope, this is where the hard truths will come in.” He paused for effect, and she hung on to his every word, her eyes wide. “You’re an _amazing_ catch, but have you seen the company you keep? Because that’s the root of the problem.”

She blinked. “The company I keep?” She thought back to her circle of friends. “Why? I hang out mostly with you, Rin and some girls from the dorm. Nothing special.”

“Yes. Rin. And myself, of course.” Gumo shot her a lopsided grin. “For me, it’s because I’m drop-dead gorgeous, duh. Everyone thinks we’re dating. You said that too, didn’t you?” She nodded carefully, not seeing where he was going with this. “And as for Rin, she’s a _monster_. I wouldn’t want to cross that girl with a ten-foot stick.”

“She isn’t! Rin is so _nice_. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, unfortunately, I do. There was one time I made a joke about her height and I’ve never been slammed onto the floor so quickly before. Almost broke my neck.” Gumo made a face. “Rin has a reputation, Miku. She _is_ one of the best athletes we have. Do you not see the way she glowers at guys who approach you during house parties?”

“No? Because I’d be talking to whoever’s in front of me?” Her frown deepened. “Wait. So, you’re saying that people don’t come up to me because they’re scared of Rin?”

“Partially. Or they think we’re together, you and I.” He paused, his gaze flitting over her face. “And honestly, I’m not inclined to rectify their misconception.”

She felt heat flood her cheeks. “You don’t need to say that just to cheer me up.”

“Who said anything about cheering you up?” he answered, point-blank, and he looked so perfectly serious that for a moment, she was stunned into silence.

Before she could ask what he meant, Gumo smiled and rose from his chair, brushing lint off his shirt. “Well, I’ve got places to go, people to see, so I’ll be on my way. Drop me a text if you need any snacks, I’ve got vouchers for the café near your dorm.”

She continued to sit at the table, pondering over his words long after he was gone. It would be silly to overthink – Gumo was always joking around. He never took anything seriously. That was just who he was. And he never hinted that he liked her before.

Huh. She probably _was_ reading too much into his words. Or maybe it was just another joke, something to distract her from her bad mood. No matter what, Gumo was a good friend, and she thought it might be best to keep things that way for now.

* * *

Ever since that day, Gumo started being a little more flirty around her, and she didn’t quite know what to make of it.

He’d always been flirtatious, and she brushed it off in the name of good fun, but she noticed the lingering looks he gave her once in a while and she wondered if this time, maybe _this_ time, he was being serious – but she always convinced herself otherwise.

She didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to potentially strain their friendship. He seemed content with the status quo so she told herself not to overreact, not to read too much into his actions because Gumo was playful with _everyone_. It was in his nature, and believing she was special would just set herself up for disappointment.

Miku exhaled, her gaze drifting over to the basketball court, toying with the white ribbon headband Rin had handed to her for safekeeping. Her best friend was running around the court, effortlessly dribbling the ball past her opponents. Miku watched as she leapt into the air, the orange ball arcing gracefully across the room straight into the hoop. Her team cheered, and Miku clapped her hands.

Rin might be petite, but that didn’t stop her from terrorising the court. Or the soccer field. Or just about any other sport, really. Like Gumo mentioned the other time, Rin was one of the best athletes in their school. _Gumo_ – she sighed, burying her face in her hands. First Len, now Gumo. What was _wrong_ with all the men in her life?

Rin’s headband twisted in her hands, and she glanced down at it, gliding her fingers across the smooth white cotton. _Why do you always wear that ribbon, Rin?_

_It’s a gift from my brother. A reminder of my twin, even if he isn’t always by my side. And over time it became my trademark, I guess. Don’t you think it looks good on me?_

The only thing that was stereotypically feminine about Kagamine Rin. Miku wriggled the headband, then snapped it on her head, wondering if it’d suit her. After a moment, she pulled out her phone, deciding to take a look at herself. She frowned at her image in the camera – no, definitely not her thing. It made her look like a ten-year-old.

“Aw, Miku. That’s cute. You should keep it on.” She heard Rin’s voice as she jogged over, sweat trickling down her face. She seemed to be breathing perfectly fine, though. “Could you pass me my bottle? It’s awful hot in this gym. We need new fans.”

Miku grabbed Rin’s bottle from her duffle bag, tossing it to her. She caught it without a problem, twisting the cap and glugging down her water – her blonde hair stuck to her neck and her forehead, too short to tie, too long to be comfortable. “Is it time for a haircut?” she asked, and Rin shrugged, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Maybe. But I think haircuts are a waste of money. I’m all for it if you want to help me shear it off.” Rin frowned. “I don’t want to go bald, though.”

Miku laughed. “Don’t be silly. Remember the last time I helped you cut your bangs?” They both shuddered at the memory. “How much longer are you going to play?”

“I dunno. A while longer, I guess. I’m filled with pent-up energy today,” Rin declared, placing one hand on her hip, her bottle already emptied. “Need to work it all off.”

“Why? Something happened?” she asked, resting her chin on her knees. It was oddly relaxing to be in the gym with no one else around. Well, besides the basketball girls.

“Uh-huh. With your little boy toy.” She caught Miku’s look of confusion and rolled her eyes. “Gumo, who else? He sent me this stupid comic he made and it’s so _rude_. Look at it!” Rin pointed at her phone, resting on the bench beside Miku. “He turned me into a blonde gorilla! There’s no resemblance whatsoever!”

Miku picked up Rin’s phone, entering her passcode. She navigated to Rin’s chat with Gumo and held back a snort at the comic – Gumo had certainly gone out of his way to make Rin look bad. “I think it’s kind of cute,” she said.

Rin glared at her. “Are you on my side or his?”

“Yours, of course.” She laughed. “I just think it’s cute that he bothered to draw you at all. He never does anything like that for me.”

That earned her a strange look. “Have you seen his sketchbook before? The one he’s always lugging around? The one I tried to touch, and he _hissed_ at me?”

She shook her head. Gumo was notoriously protective of his sketchbook; he used it to take down all the ideas he had, and even she didn’t know what it contained.

“Well, I got him drunk once and he was tipsy enough to not notice me sneaking into his sketchbook.” Rin paused. “At least a third of it is filled with sketches of you.”

Miku blinked. “Huh?” Rin’s words didn’t quite register in her mind. His sketchbook…? Filled with drawings of her? Her best friend cocked her head, one eyebrow raised.

“I seriously don’t know how you’re so oblivious. He has a legit thing for you. I’ve been telling you since last semester.” Rin exhaled through her nose. “You _do_ know the only reason he has yet to make any move on you is that you have a crush on Len, right? He’s dropping so many hints, it’s kind of gross.”

“I swear I never noticed,” she said, staring blankly at the gym wall. Rin patted her on the head, her expression morphing into something closer to sympathy.

“Then now you know. I think you have to say something soon, Miku. If you like my brother, then go for it! Or if you like Gumo…” Rin hesitated. “Of course, I think Len is a much better choice, but Gumo can be a decent guy when he wants to be.”

“Or I could join you in singlehood and avoid thinking about things like these?” Miku suggested, and Rin laughed, a deep belly laugh that reverberated off the gym walls.

“You could, you could! No one’s stopping you!” she gasped, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. “Point is, do whatever the hell you want, Miku. It’s _your_ life – just make sure you don’t string too many boys along. I won’t always be there to fend them off.”

Rin winked, doing finger guns at her before she turned and ran back to the basketball court. Miku looked at the comic on Rin’s phone again, thinking. If Gumo had been crushing on her since last semester – and she was _pretty sure_ Rin never said anything to her, she would have remembered, right? – then during Christmas break…

She suddenly felt a little ill. Using his name during Spin the Bottle. People whispering that they were dating, that she had a crush on him, that they were – well, in love? Did he ever think that the rumours might be true?

Miku saw him as a friend. The thought of anything more had never crossed her mind, at least not until recently, and she still didn’t know how she felt about that. It wasn’t an automatic _no_ , she knew. Gumo was a good person, and he cared about her.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down, looking through her notifications. A new message from Len. She swallowed, her finger hovering over the text – just seeing his name on her screen made her heart pound. Ever since they slept together…

God, her dreams had become so vivid. And the way he held her, the way he touched her, the way he _kissed_ her. That night and every night after that.

It had been a while. Several weeks at least. They were both busy with schoolwork and other commitments, and the last time she’d spent any time around him was when Rin dragged them both out for dinner in town. That had been kind of awkward, and they both avoided looking at each other until they parted ways back on campus.

She opened the message, painfully curious. What did he want from her?

**Len:** _Do you like soft toys?_

For a moment, all she did was stare. What a cryptic question. _Did_ she like soft toys? Honestly, it wasn’t something she ever thought about. They were cute, and she did collect dolls when she was younger, but as she grew older she just…well, stopped.

 **Miku:** _Yeah, I do. Why the sudden question?_

His reply was almost instantaneous.

**Len:** _No reason. Want to have dinner tonight? We can try that new place downtown._

**Miku:** _Oh, okay. With Rin?_

 **Len:** _No._

**Len:** _Just us._

She blinked, her fingers frozen over her phone. Just them? That sounded almost like a date. But it couldn’t be, right? They were just…friends. Friends with benefits, but still _friends_. Platonic. She recalled Gumo’s words. Feelings would make everything complicated. She desperately didn’t want things with Len to be complicated.

 **Miku:** _Okay. Just us._

She hoped she was making the right decision. She hoped she wouldn’t mess anything up. Her fingers curled around her phone, her other hand splayed over her knee. Dinner tonight. With Len. She should think about what to wear.

 **Len:** _Great. See you at six. I’ll come to your dorm._

Miku exhaled, closing her eyes. She was going to have dinner with Len. It didn’t mean anything. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time they ate together. Just that usually Rin would be with them. But maybe they were…better friends now? Maybe they no longer needed Rin to sit between them to mediate the conversation?

Well, whatever the reason, she had to get ready. She’d rather not show up in front of Len in a tank top and ratty jeans. “Rin! I’m going to shower!” she shouted, waving at her friend to get her attention. Rin glanced around and shot her a thumbs-up, and Miku packed her things, preparing to head back to her dorm. Her heart fluttered.

This wasn’t a date, but still. When _was_ the last time she went on a date? She couldn’t remember what to do. But she’d figure things out along the way.


	6. Chapter 6

She had almost forgotten how beautiful his smile was.

The setting sun caressed him, bathing him in warm orange and pink. She found her feet slowing as she admired him from afar, his head tipped back to look at the clouds above. They were rosy, almost glowing, and she could see streaks of blue and purple far overhead, whispers of twilight fading into the night sky.

He made her breath catch. It was unfair, just how perfect he was. Did he even know? Did he realise the kind of effect his proximity had on her? She rubbed her wrist, feeling awkward – now these weren’t the kind of thoughts she wanted to have before dinner, but something about Len never failed to inspire inferiority within her. He wasn’t loud about his achievements; in fact, he sometimes seemed to want to blend right into the wall, but that didn’t make things any better.

Len was perfect. Len was beautiful and intelligent and gentle and everything she knew she’d never be. She was tempted to turn around and leave; the only thing stopping her was the knowledge that she’d let him down if she ran away now.

And she didn’t want to think about him being upset. He looked sad enough as it was, most of the time. “Len?” she called, and he glanced at her, his ocean eyes reflecting the soft sunset. “Sorry! Were you waiting for long?”

His posture reminded her of that night in the courtyard. The night everything started, the night they began to grow closer, though not in the way she once imagined.

“Nope. I just got here a while ago,” he answered. He looked good in his denim jacket and skinny jeans, and her eyes darted towards the boots he was wearing. She couldn’t help but smile – it was the pair she and Rin had picked out, though she hadn’t been around to personally gift them to him. Len noticed the direction of her gaze. “Oh, yeah. Thanks for the shoes. They’re great.”

“You’re welcome!” She clasped her hands in front of her, trying not to stare at his face. Once more she was reminded of looking into the sun – he was so brilliant, his smile and his eyes and _everything_ making her realise just how lucky she was to be his friend. She could name any number of girls who’d love to be in her position now.

“Shall we?” He reached for her hand and she allowed him to take it, though the gesture surprised her a little. His fingers slipped between hers, and it felt so _natural_. As though his hand was made to fit hers. The thought made her cheeks warm, and she hastily averted her face, not wanting him to see her blush.

They took the bus to town. It was a silent ride, but not uncomfortable, and she gazed out of the window as they travelled, watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon. Len glanced at her every once in a while, but he didn’t say anything and neither did she, not until they reached their destination and he gently nudged her shoulder.

“Time to go,” he whispered, and his soft voice brought back memories of him stroking her hair, his mouth pressed against her throat, and she shivered. “Feeling cold?”

“No,” she said. Quite the opposite. Standing next to him was making her feel warm – no, hot. So _hot_ that she was afraid she might explode. “Anyway. You mentioned we should try some new place for dinner, right? Which place are you talking about?”

“Oh, a sushi bar.” They were standing together underneath the bus stop, and he was so _close_ , their skin almost brushing. She wanted to touch him, wanted to reach out and wrap her arms around his waist, but it’d been a while since they last spent time together like this and she felt painfully awkward, so she kept her hands to herself.

“Nice. I love sushi,” she answered, wincing a little – she sounded so lame. Len didn’t seem to mind though, his smile so bright that she swore it lit up the evening sky.

“Okay. I mean, that’s great. I was kind of nervous about whether or not you’d like it.” He laughed, pushing his bangs away from his face, and she watched his hand move, unable to help herself. “I asked Rin what you usually eat and she said sushi is a good option, so –”

“Wait. You asked Rin what I like to eat?” she interrupted, blinking in surprise.

He quietened, something almost like concern flitting across his face. “Yeah. Did you not want me to? I just didn’t want to bring you somewhere you wouldn’t enjoy…”

“No, no, there’s nothing wrong,” she reassured him, waving her hands for emphasis. “I’m just kind of surprised, I guess. I didn’t think you’d go out of your way like that.”

“Rin’s my sister. It’s not out of the way,” he answered. “And your preferences matter, don’t they? I can’t invite someone out to dinner without knowing what they like.”

She couldn’t help feeling a little dejected. He said this so matter-of-factly – for a moment she had allowed herself to think that maybe she was special, maybe he had planned a night out because he had _some_ feelings for her, but after hearing him explain she was pretty sure he’d have done the same thing for anyone else.

Now she felt like a hopeless idiot. Len was so courteous. Being polite and going the extra mile was probably second nature to him. “Yeah, you’re right.” She tried to keep her voice light and cheerful, but Len gave her a strange look. She cleared her throat, barrelling on to forget her embarrassment. “Where’s this sushi bar?”

“Further down.” Len tilted his head towards the row of restaurants and bars she could see lining the road before them, and she nodded, going in front of him so that she didn’t have to look at his questioning face. Served her right for expecting anything.

Len walked behind her, studying her stiff shoulders and the way she carried herself – tense, almost upset. He wondered if he’d done something to make her angry, but he had no idea what he could have done wrong. She’d seemed okay on the bus, and he saw how the mention of sushi made her eyes light up, her lips curving into a smile.

What was he missing? He frowned, picking apart every word he’d said since they got off the bus, trying to puzzle out the cause of her unhappiness.

Miku was still walking, her fingers twitching by her sides, trying not to pay too much attention to Len, gliding over the pavement behind her. She had no idea where she was headed, but she continued to walk anyway, occasionally glancing around to make sure she hadn't missed any sushi bar. It occurred to her that she didn't even ask Len for the name of the restaurant, but she would prefer not to face him at the moment.

She was about to cross another small road when she felt long, slender fingers grasp her shoulder, and she stiffened, turning slightly to look at him. “You just walked past it,” he said, and she let out a quiet “oh” as she looked the building up and down.

 _Standing Sushi Bar._ The design of the place was distinctly Eastern, and she wondered how she was able to miss it so completely. Len frowned at her. Even with his brow furrowed he was gorgeous, and she found that incredibly unfair. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah! I’m fine!” When she smiled this time she was better prepared, certain that it looked genuine. Len stared at her for a moment before he exhaled and nodded, and she spun around, walking up the stairs towards the restaurant.

The server showed them to their table, and she blinked when she realised there were no chairs. “We _actually_ have to stand?” she whispered when the server walked away, leaving them to their own devices, and Len’s eyes glimmered with rare mirth, something she would have found more distracting if she wasn’t so shocked.

“It’s called the Standing Sushi Bar for a reason,” he answered. “I guess I should have warned you. Are you uncomfortable with this?” Suddenly, he sounded concerned, and she felt a tiny bit happier. Even though he treated everyone the same way, it was still nice to know that he worried about her. “We can go elsewhere if you mind.”

“No, I don’t mind. It’s an interesting concept.” She looked around, noticing that there weren’t many people around. “Are they super new? I thought it’d be more crowded.”

He nodded. “They just opened a few days ago. I heard some really good reviews about their sashimi so I thought we could give it a try. They say it’s fresh and authentic.”

“Every sushi restaurant says that about their food,” she pointed out, and he smiled, not refuting her comment. “Do we just stand here and grab plates from the belt?”

“Yeah. Or if you want something specific, you can order it here, I believe.” He indicated the tablet in front of them, and she flicked through the menu, perusing their selection of sashimi. “You’re truly a sushi connoisseur, aren’t you?”

“If you’re going to eat raw fish then you should make sure it’s of good quality!” she answered, and he chuckled, reaching for the conveyor belt and taking his first plate.

They ate together, falling into casual conversation – she made sure to stick with safe topics like schoolwork and cafeteria meals and other banal things, careful not to bring up their relationship or whatever it was. Len seemed content to listen to her talk, nodding along as he grabbed more sushi. He’d already eaten five plates.

She was still waiting for her sashimi, so she fiddled with her hands, watching him eat. He swallowed a mouthful of rice and glanced at her. “You don’t want anything from the belt?” he asked, putting his chopsticks down. She hesitated, averting her face.

“I’m trying to lose weight,” she admitted. “I ate way too much during the winter break and now I’m suffering the consequences. Rice is my enemy.”

“Sushi rice is delicious, though.” Len’s voice was mild. She couldn’t refute that.

“I’m living vicariously through you. Don’t worry about me,” she answered, and he just shot her a look, grabbing another plate of salmon sushi. Instead of setting it down in front of him, he slid it over to her, and she stared at it, already tempted.

“One plate won’t make too much difference,” he pointed out. “This is my treat. Take advantage of it."

She didn’t need any more prompting for her to snap her chopsticks and pull the plate closer. The rice was sweet on her tongue, the salmon so fresh that she could almost taste the sea, and she let out a tiny whimper, satisfied.

Len stiffened, but she was so distracted that she didn’t notice. “This tastes amazing!” she exclaimed, and he nodded, avoiding her gaze. She was too hungry to focus on his sudden reluctance to look her in the eye, pulling more plates off the conveyor belt to satisfy her appetite. It was like the sushi had triggered some chain reaction within her; all she could think about was eating more. She hadn’t had rice in _days_.

Her sashimi finally arrived and she almost _moaned_ at the taste of fresh tuna – Len’s knuckles were white around his drink when she turned towards him, a piece of sashimi dangling from her chopsticks. “Want some?” she offered.

“You should eat more since you enjoy it so much,” he answered, taking a sip of green tea. She shook her head, still pushing the tuna towards him, and he sighed.

Len reached for her chopsticks, but she moved her hand away, tutting. “What are you doing? Just open your mouth. I’ll feed you,” she said, and his eyes widened.

“You’ll…feed me?” he echoed, and she frowned.

“Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?” she asked. He glanced at her, then at the piece of tuna, then back at her, and slowly he shook his head. He leant closer, opening his mouth, and as she fed the sashimi to him she was reminded of his soft lips on other parts of her body, pressing open-mouthed kisses down her waist, her hips –

No, no. Bad Miku. Now was _not_ the right time to think about this. Her hand trembled, and she was thankful when he took the sashimi between his teeth and she could put her chopsticks down. “It’s good, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice quivering slightly.

“Yeah. Pretty fresh.” He nodded, looking pleased. “I guess the reviews weren’t wrong.”

“Mm. We should come here again,” she said, and he made a sound of assent, reaching past her to take something off the belt. She could feel his warmth from here, his closeness doing strange things to her insides, and she let out a breath when he pulled back, a red plate in hand. He smelled so good, and her nose twitched.

Maybe agreeing to dinner wasn’t a good idea. It was making her hungry for something else, and she had no idea how to drop hints without falling over in embarrassment. He wasn’t her boyfriend, after all – it would be weird to suddenly blurt out her desires. But as she shifted her weight, her legs sliding against each other, she couldn’t help but think about how much she wanted his mouth between her thighs.

They ate the next few plates in silence, Miku simply concentrating on her breathing, and she was almost grateful for the distraction when her phone began to buzz. She took it out of her pocket, noticing she had an incoming call. _Gumo_.

She hesitated, wondering if she should pick up, but Len pointedly turned towards his increasing pile of plates and she took that as a sign to answer if she wanted to.

“Hey,” she greeted Gumo, wondering why he was calling. It wasn’t like they made dinner plans or anything like that, and she didn’t think there were any assignments due soon.

“Yo. I’m at the convenience store right now. Do you need anything? Ramen, chocolate, chewing gum, whatever,” he drawled.

“I don’t think I need – wait. Actually.” She considered, feeling a little awkward about her request, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt anyone. “Could you get me tampons?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. What size do you need?” He sounded perfectly fine. She was surprised he didn’t react more strongly to it, given the number of times her brother had complained about buying pads and tampons for her back home.

“Just the regular size will do.” She glanced at Len and saw that he was still eating his sushi, though he had pulled out his phone and was now looking through social media.

“Is any brand okay? Or is there something you prefer?” Gumo was still matter-of-fact, which made a pleasant change from Mikuo’s typical awkwardness.

“Pamtax would be nice. I’ll pay you back later.”

“Nah, no need. Your cramps are already crap enough, I’m not going to make you pay for necessities too.” He sounded amused. “Just get me a drink the next time we meet.”

“All right. Thanks so much, you’re amazing!” He laughed, soaking in her compliment, and cut the call. Miku smiled at her phone for a while, then heard Len clear his throat.

“Gumo?” he guessed. She nodded. “That’s nice of him. To help you buy things, I mean.”

“Right?” She put her phone aside, eyeing the plate Len was eating from. She wasn’t sure what that was but it looked good. “My brother would have complained like crazy. And he never offered to pay for me,” she muttered, more to herself than to Len.

“How old is your brother?” he asked, picking up a piece of sushi from his plate. Her gaze lingered on the remaining piece.

“Sixteen this year. It’s an awkward age, I suppose.” She laughed, leaning against the counter, idly keeping an eye on the conveyor belt. “His name is Mikuo.”

He nodded. “Funny the difference a few years can make,” he mused, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his tea. “He’ll grow up eventually.”

“Yeah, I know he will.” She paused, glancing at him from the corners of her eyes. Len put his empty cup down, dabbing delicately at his mouth with a paper napkin. “Sorry if this is too personal, but…what was it like, growing up apart from Rin?”

He hesitated. “Growing up, huh?” he murmured, and he sounded…nostalgic. Like he was remembering something from a long, long time ago. “It was strange at first, not being next to Rin all day. We cried a lot when we were split up. Every night for a few weeks, or at least that was the case for me – I think Rin got over it faster than I did.”

She watched as he ran his finger around the rim of his cup, staring at the countertop rather than her. “As time went past, I…kind of forgot I had a sister, sometimes. Sure, there were video calls and once every few years, we’d visit, but things were never the same.” He glanced at her then, his expression subdued. “I was a pretty stupid kid.”

“Why?” Len wasn’t stupid. He was the very opposite of stupid, and he must have seen the confusion on her face because he chuckled and rested his hand on the table, mere inches away from hers. She wondered if it’d be strange to reach over and touch him.

“I wanted to rewind time. Go back. Even though I knew it was an impossible dream.” He sighed. “Go back to before the divorce happened so I could find out why my family broke apart. Ask my parents whether it was _my_ fault. Whether I made them unhappy.”

“How could it possibly be your fault?” She shook her head, her heart aching for him – she had never seen him look so sad. Mournful, even. “You were a child.”

His lips tilted up, a ghost of a smile. “Children rarely think logically. And I wasn’t very nice back then. You can ask Rin. I was a bit of a…how should I put it? A troublemaker, perhaps.” He chuckled at the disbelief on her face. “I’m not lying.”

She suddenly remembered what Rin told her during Christmas break, about how Len wasn’t as perfect as she thought he was. _You should see the way he behaves at home_.

“Do I want to know?” she wondered, and he shrugged, not saying a word, though his eyes glimmered with something almost resembling amusement. “But you’re so – well. Look at you.” She gestured vaguely at him. “You’re a model student.”

“I decided to reinvent myself. After all, younger me was convinced that if I had been less mischievous, my parents would have stuck together. It took time and effort, but here I am now,” he said. “My mother was, and still is, very proud of me.”

“I wonder why,” she mumbled, and he laughed. It was an inviting sound, soft and melodious, and it made her feel warm all over. “Is this your real self, you think?”

“My real self?” He considered, picking up his chopsticks from where they lay, waiting on an empty plate. “I suppose so. I’ve been this way for so long that I can’t remember anything else. And it’s easier not to talk, anyway. Leaves less room for mistakes.”

He wasn’t _wrong_ exactly, but something about his statement made her feel strange. She couldn’t place a finger on what. “Well, as long as you’re happy!”

“As long as I’m happy,” he echoed, and there was an unidentifiable look in his eyes; she was reminded of the time he pulled her into a classroom after Christmas, the way his voice trembled, almost _pleading_. She still didn’t know what he was searching for.

Miku grabbed more plates off the conveyor belt, shovelling sushi into her mouth. She didn’t want to think about this right now, and eating seemed like a good distraction.

She could sense Len watching her, and she tried her best not to react, but everything she took went down tasteless and the rice felt like sandpaper on her tongue.


	7. Chapter 7

“Did you know that pandas can’t actually digest bamboo? That’s why they eat so much of it. And their stupid diets could lead to their extinction one day.”

“Gumo, aren’t you supposed to be studying?” Miku asked, glancing up from her books. Her favourite idiot was leaning against his chair, his eyes glazed over as he scrolled through whatever listicle he was reading this time.

She was somewhat concerned about his attention span. “I’m totally studying. It’s just a quick break. Don’t nag,” he said, his gaze never leaving his phone.

“Ha. This is your fifth break in thirty minutes. I don’t know who you’re trying to bluff, but it’s not working on me.” She reached over and plucked his phone out of his hand, and he yelped, trying to snatch it back. She waggled a finger at him. “No. I’m revoking your phone privileges until you get through this topic. Come on, the test is _tomorrow_!”

Gumo groaned. “Miku, I adore you, but this is too much.” He made another fruitless swipe for his phone, and she just held it behind her, far out of his reach. He slumped over the table. “How about this? You return my phone and I give you a kiss.”

She was unmoved. “Save that for one of your admirers. How many chocolates did you receive for Valentine’s Day this time, huh?”

He counted on his fingers. “I dunno. There was a small pile outside my door the last time I checked. The guys on my floor ate some.” He grinned. “I don’t care how many chocolates I get if none of them came from you, sweetheart.”

Miku rolled her eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired of flirting with me?”

“Nope.” He cocked his head, his smile fading, and she felt something in the air change – she swallowed, her grip on his phone tightening. Gumo leant forward, propping his chin on the back of his hand. “Do you think I’m joking around?”

“Should I be answering that question?” It was tough to concentrate with him studying her like that. She felt raw, _exposed_ , as though he could somehow read her mind with those light-filled eyes. This was not what Gumo was usually like.

“It depends on you. Whether or not that’s what you want.” He shrugged. “I won’t say anything more if you don’t want me to.”

He always _was_ so straightforward. She appreciated his honesty most of the time. But in this case, it made her feel – she didn’t know what to feel. Uncomfortable? Not quite. Something else. Something that made her stomach churn.

“Let’s not talk about it,” she said. His expression didn’t even flicker as he withdrew into his chair, and she couldn’t help but feel _bad_ about her decision, even if he didn’t comment on it. She cleared her throat, forcing a smile on her face. “Where were we?”

“You trying to make me study,” he said, his lips quirking up. “And me trying to get my phone back. If you don’t want a kiss, I’m sure I can bribe you in other ways.”

“No thanks.” She pointed at his laptop. “Progress check. Now.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes, but spun his laptop around to let her see what he was (supposed to be) reading. She was scandalised. “Gumo! You’re not even halfway done!”

“It’s been half an hour! I shouldn’t even have finished the second chapter!” He pouted, and she softened momentarily, shifting his phone from one hand to the other – but then she shook her head, resolving not to give in. His puppy eyes weren’t going to work on her this time.

“You always complain about this class and how you’re not doing well, but you and I both know that you _could_ score if you put your mind to it. You just…don’t.”

“Look, I hate this mod. I’m only taking it because you’re here.” He flopped onto the table, hiding his face behind his arms. “I don’t even show up in lectures,” he added, his voice muffled. She frowned at him. He had such a questionable work ethic.

Gumo’s phone vibrated, and she glanced at it, instinctive – Rin’s name appeared on the screen along with a preview of her message. _Dumbass, where did you hide Miku?_

“Dumbass, huh?” she said aloud, and Gumo stiffened, peeking up at her. “Didn’t know you and Rin had progressed to pet names already.”

“Shut up. It’s nothing like that.” He sighed. “Ever heard of the possessive best friend? She fits that to a tee. I swear she’s always trying to make sure I don’t spend too much time alone with you. It’s starting to get on my nerves.”

“She’s just protective. She wants to make sure I don’t get eaten up by big, bad wolves like you,” she joked, reaching over to pat his head.

“I don’t think I’m a wolf,” he mumbled, his hand flicking up to grab hers. She paused, her heart suddenly loud in her ears. “You’re simply naïve. That’s not my fault, is it?”

“I’m not _naïve_ ,” she defended. “I’m just…kind of unobservant sometimes!”

“Sometimes.” He made a face. “Why don’t you make that all the time? You’re the first girl I’ve seen who is so hopelessly unaware. I don’t know if it’s cute or frustrating.”

Did he call her _cute_? She could feel the blood rushing to her face. “I’m not cute.”

“Must be the second option, then.” His fingers slipped through hers, and she found that she didn’t want to pull away. “You have surprisingly dainty hands.”

“What does that even mean?” Gumo had delicate, slender fingers. The sensitive hands of an artist. They were beautiful. She noticed he was wearing a silver ring.

“Since you’re always hanging out with the gorilla girl I figured you’d be all rough and sporty like she is. But you’re not. I was pretty surprised when I first talked to you.”

She remembered. He hadn’t _looked_ surprised – he was sitting in the row behind her, and after their professor told the class about the projects expected for that semester he leant forward and asked if she wanted to group up. Casual, fuss-free, a languid smile on his face. Gumo always reminded her of a cat lazing in the sunshine.

But his eyes glimmered with sly knowingness, something that warned he was not to be underestimated. “That’s so rude. I’m telling Rin you called her that.”

He let go with an exaggerated sigh. “How could you betray your friend like this?”

“She’s my _best_ friend. You’re my _good_ friend. There’s a difference.” She said it in a light-hearted manner, not wanting him to take her statement seriously. Both Rin and Gumo were important to her; she hoped he was aware of that.

He appraised her, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “What about a boyfriend?”

“Huh?” She blinked, wondering if she had misheard him.

“Don’t huh me. What about a boyfriend? Would that rank above or below a best friend?” he asked, his smile unreadable – it was hard to tell whether he was joking or not.

“Um. That’s a toughie.” She had to think about it for a while. A boyfriend? She never exactly had one, so it was difficult to say. “I think…what do you boys always say? Bros before hoes? I think it’d be the same for me. What’s it called, chicks before dicks –”

“Okay, that’s quite enough. No bad words in the study room,” Gumo interrupted, and she glared at him, trying not to be swayed by the playful look on his face. “I see how things are, then. No matter what I’ll never displace Rin as the first in your heart.”

“That’s right. I’m glad you know,” she shot back. He shrugged, grinning at her.

“I’ve always enjoyed a good challenge. The more impossible the better. Maybe one day I’ll be able to remove her from her throne. Who knows, right?” he wondered.

“Keep trying, then.” She brushed her bangs away from her forehead, noticing the way his eyes tracked the movement of her hand. “Break time’s over. Get back to work!”

He made a sound that was disturbingly similar to the whimper of a wounded animal. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say, ma’am,” he deadpanned.

“I’ll give you back your phone once you’re at the one-third mark,” she promised. He didn’t bother answering, staring at his notes and online quizzes instead.

Gumo was the kind of student who flunked stuff he wasn’t interested in and aced the things he did enjoy. His GPA was still decent, but only because when he scored well he scored _well_ …at least, good enough to pull up the Bs and Cs in his other courses.

It wasn’t that he was dumb or anything like that. Quite the opposite, really – she was pretty sure he could do better than her if he wanted to. He just couldn’t be bothered. Sometimes, she wondered why he enrolled in university if he hated studying so much.

She tore open a packet of chips, munching on them as she flipped through her book, while Gumo slid on his headphones, having apparently decided to take this seriously. They studied together in silence for a while, and she only looked up when she heard the door of the study room open. Newcomers. She should make space for them…

Her mouth fell open when she saw two blond people walking in. Len and Rin. Rin was already glaring at her. “How dare you not answer my calls, Miku!”

“Sorry! I left my phone in my room because I wanted to study!” she said, throwing her hands up in apology. She tried not to look at Len, but she could feel his quiet gaze searing her and the back of her neck prickled. “I thought I told you I’d be here?”

“There’s more than one study room in this building, you know,” Rin countered, miffed. “I had to walk up and down the stairs just to find you. You better appreciate it!” Then she rounded on Gumo, who had placed his hands over his headphones, doing his best to ignore her. “And you! Why didn’t _you_ answer my texts?”

“Don’t blame him, Rin. I took his phone away,” she admitted, pulling his phone out of her pocket and placing it on the table. She noticed he had five new texts, all from Rin, and felt a little guilty about missing them. His phone _had_ been buzzing a lot; she just didn’t want to distract herself or look through his things so she’d ignored it.

Rin was still glaring. “Please. He could have replied with his laptop if he wanted to. I bet you anything he just saw my name and decided to ignore me. Right, Gumo?”

He hummed, though whether he was acknowledging her or whether he was singing along to his music was anybody’s guess. “Gumo?” Miku tried, and he looked up then, slipping his headphones off his ears.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asked, blinking innocently at her. “I was concentrating, you know. This had better be important,” he added, a lazy smile crossing his face.

She was a little flustered – though she was used to hearing him call her sweetheart or darling or any number of pet names, it was the first time he used one in front of others. She snuck a glance at Rin and saw her eyebrow twitching. Len was impassive.

“Why didn’t you reply Rin’s messages?” she asked, deciding it would be better not to react for now. “She was searching for us. And if you saw them on your laptop…”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to interrupt my focus. If it _was_ urgent she’d call me, right?” he reasoned, and she supposed that was a valid excuse. She looked back at Rin.

Rin sighed. “He’s not wrong…but hey. I just didn’t call because you’re not supposed to make noise in the study room, okay. I was being considerate.” She glowered at him. “It’s not an excuse to steal away my best friend and pretend I don’t exist!”

“I didn’t steal away your best friend. She’s free to do whatever she wants, and on this lovely afternoon, she apparently decided to become my slave driver. Please take her away if you can. I want my phone back.” He let out a long-suffering sigh.

Rin rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. We’re here to study too. I brought more snacks.” She swung her bag around and started pulling out candy bars, potato chips and even cups of instant ramen. Miku had to wonder if she was truly here to revise or to eat.

“Rin, that seems like a bit much,” was Len’s gentle rebuke, and she narrowed her eyes at her twin, still halfway taking a pack of cookies out of her bag. How on earth did she manage to squeeze in all that junk food?

“But you know eating helps me focus!” she complained. “This is all for me. And well, I guess Miku can have this…” Rin rootled around in her bag and drew out a tiny bar of chocolate. Miku snorted. “Hey! Be grateful. This is my personal stash, you know.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the food,” Gumo said absent-mindedly, reaching for a pack of chips as he continued staring at his screen. Rin slapped his hand away. “What?”

“They’re not meant for sharing!” Rin insisted. But Len gave his sister a look and in the end, she relented, flopping into the chair beside Miku with a huff. “You all suck.”

Len settled gracefully opposite Rin, and Gumo moved some of his stuff off the table, making space for him. Miku wondered if she was imagining the tension between the two of them – Gumo’s smile had dimmed, while Len seemed completely detached, setting up his workspace with quiet precision.

Hm. She couldn’t see any reason for them to be unhappy. She was probably reading too much into it. “I’m almost done,” she said, holding her book out to Rin. “I’m left with a few chapters to revise, then afterwards we can grab some food! Proper food.”

“Cookies are proper food,” Rin argued. Miku didn’t bother countering her statement. Instead, she glanced at Len’s notes, wondering what he was studying. She still wasn’t in any classes with him, and she had no idea what his timetable was like.

He noticed her stare. “It’s business law,” he said, his hand lingering over a large table filled with words. “You won’t like it. A lot of memorisation and case studies.”

“Oh.” It didn’t surprise her that he was reading something like that. “Good luck with that, I guess.” She’d only taken _one_ business module ever and that was just because it was compulsory, as part of their school’s holistic education system. It was a marketing class, and while she did kind of enjoy it, she’d prefer not to do it again.

“Thank you.” He smiled, then looked back at his notes, and she studied his profile for a moment, watching the way his blond hair fell over his forehead, shadowing his eyes.

Gumo and Rin ended up chatting. She wasn’t surprised. For all their playful animosity they were more alike than first appearances implied – Rin was awful at sitting still for long periods, and Gumo would take just about any distraction when he was reading something he wasn’t interested in. She turned towards Len instead, finding that his silent concentration was a far better study companion than the other two.

She couldn’t help but think about their sushi date. Once upon a time, he hadn’t been this way. She wondered how long it took for him to change himself. Maybe he’d have some tips to help her study better. But she found it difficult to open her mouth – they were usually together in private, and she hardly spoke to him around other people.

Plus, the fact that Rin and Gumo were here made it hard to think. One was Len’s sister, the other was her friend who would no doubt tease her if she came up with something stupid. Gumo could recall all her embarrassing moments with terrible clarity.

Thinking about that night made her remember his mysterious question – _do you like soft toys_? Nothing happened out of that, and she was kind of curious, but his head was bent over his books and she didn’t want to interrupt him.

She fiddled with the corner of a page, distracted. Nothing she read was staying in her head – all she could focus on was Gumo, then Rin, then Len, then back to Gumo again. She caught his eye and he winked before lobbing another paper ball at Rin – her best friend let loose some utterly filthy profanities as she tackled him, having long given up on her revision. Miku idly wondered if she should try to split them up.

Sometimes, she wondered if Gumo and Rin had feelings for each other. That was how the movies did it – the two who started off hating each other always ended up falling in love, right? But as she watched Rin hissing at Gumo, incessantly prodding his chest, she figured that fiction was often nothing like real life.

Gumo was barely responding to Rin, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. They would do fine without her intervention, so she went back to her books again, twirling a pen between her fingers. If she was lucky she’d be able to finish this final chapter before dinner.

What amazed her was how Len was capable of tuning out their noise, even without an earpiece. He flipped a page, scanning through his notes, and she found herself watching him, watching his fingers flitting across the paper, watching the way his lips parted as he murmured to himself. Everything he did was so _sensuous_ , and she shut her eyes for a second, reminding herself to take deep breaths. Calm down.

Her heart felt ready to burst out of her chest, and she was annoyed at herself for that. Len was just there, minding his own business, but she was practically fidgeting in her seat. God, she was hopeless. “This is too hard,” she muttered, gripping her thigh.

Len glanced up, meeting her gaze. “Are you struggling with something?” he asked, a sympathetic light in his eyes. She grimaced, tapping her pen against the page.

“Not really. I’m just kind of distracted, I guess.” She didn’t look at Rin and Gumo, but he narrowed his eyes at them anyway, the first time she’d ever seen him display any sign of irritation. “No, not them. It’s more like study fatigue,” she admitted.

“Ah. I see.” He hesitated, then got up and took Rin’s vacated seat, his breath brushing against her shoulder as he leant over to look at her notes. A thrill ran down her back at his proximity. “How many chapters have you read already?”

“Five, I think. There’s a total of six chapters being tested and this is the last one, but nothing is sinking in,” she said, irritation evident in her voice. _Deep breaths_. She tried to tone it down. It wasn’t his fault that she couldn’t focus…though it also kind of was.

“Maybe you just need a break. Go out, get some fresh air. Take a walk,” he suggested. Their gazes met, and her breath caught. “I’ll go with you if you want.”

“That would be…” She hesitated. Did she want to distract him? His face gave nothing away – he waited for her answer, patient and understanding. She didn’t deserve him. “That would be nice,” she finally decided, and he nodded, rising from the chair.

“Bye! I’m going for a walk!” she called over her shoulder as she pushed away from the table. Gumo looked up at her voice, blinking, and he made to get up from the study room sofa, but Rin jabbed his chest again, pushing him back with a spiteful look in her eyes. She shot him a look of pity. “Good luck, Gumo. Hope you finish your work.”

“Oi! Miku! You can’t just ditch me like that!” But she brushed off his protests, skipping merrily out of the study room. A break sounded like a fantastic idea; how did she not think of that before? Len followed her, graceful and solemn, and when the door shut behind them she let out a breath, stretching her hands towards the ceiling.

“I feel so _free_ now,” she said, glancing at her companion. Len made a sound of assent, looking up and down the hallway. It was empty, though that wasn’t a surprise; hardly anyone went to the main building during the weekends. That’s why she decided to come to the study room here – it was a better option than staying in her dorm.

“We can go outside for a while,” he suggested. “It’s still cold, but it’s pleasant enough. And soon the air will get warm.” He exhaled, clasping his hands and breathing into them. “I wonder what spring looks like around here,” he added.

“Oh, it’s super pretty. All the flowers start coming out and the courtyard will be lush and green.” She looked out of the window at the grey sky. “Didn’t you have spring back where you lived?” she asked.

“We did. But spring is much less dramatic when you don’t have snow,” he said, sounding amused. She nodded, turning around and walking towards the stairs, and he followed her, neither of them saying a word. The silence was friendly.

One thing she appreciated about Len was how he seemed so comfortable keeping his mouth shut. She never once felt the need to fill the air with pointless chatter; with Len, everything he said had gravity and consequence. He wasn’t the type to ramble, and she wished she had a bit of his poise, a bit of the gravitas present in his every word. “It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow,” she remarked. “Did you get anything yet?”

Len paused. She walked a little further before she realised he was no longer behind her, and she turned back to see him at the top of the stairs, a pondering look on his face. “Len?” she called, and he glanced at her, startled.

“Sorry. I was distracted.” He exhaled. “I received a few presents, but I didn’t take any of them. It didn’t seem right to accept chocolates from people you feel nothing for.”

“That’s true,” she agreed. “It must be pretty hurtful for those girls, though.”

He frowned. “Yes. I try not to think about that.” His expression turned wistful. “There’s only one person I would’ve liked to get chocolates from, but…well, nothing happened, so there’s that.” He continued walking down the stairs, and Miku wondered who was the lucky girl he liked. It couldn’t be her, right? Surely he’d have said something.

“Want to let me know who your crush is? I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. He laughed and shook his head, his eyes soft, and she felt her stomach lurch.

“I’m not ready to say it out loud. Besides, she’s already dating. I doubt she’d return my feelings.” Len sounded neutral, but she saw a little flicker of pain in his eyes and her heart hurt – for him? For herself? She didn’t know.

“That’s a shame. You’re a great person, Len. Your future girlfriend will be super lucky.” It would be nice if it were her, but things didn’t seem to be swinging that way. It made her wonder if they’d still carry on with their…arrangement, whatever it was.

“You truly think so?” He sighed. “I’ve dated a few times and it just never worked out. I’m starting to think there might be something wrong with me.”

“No! No way!” She reached for his shoulder – he stiffened at her touch, and she could smell his cologne, a scent that made her giddy. “Those girls have no idea what they lost,” she said, and he blinked, a look of surprise on his face. “Come to think of it…why _did_ you break up with your exes? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He hesitated. “I told you about the fourth one before, right? That one didn’t work out because of the long-distance thing. As for the others…” He thought for a moment. “The first one was puppy love. We fell out of it pretty quickly and only stayed together because being in a relationship was a status symbol, back in middle school.”

She knew that all too well. Her mind went back to the ice cream parlour boy and she winced. “The second one was when I was sixteen. An older girl. I thought she was cool, she thought I was cute, but we couldn’t get over the age gap. She was going to college while I was halfway through high school, so…” His voice trailed away, his gaze distant.

“And the third one?” she prompted when Len continued to stare at the opposite wall, not saying a word. He jolted, his eyes widening when he looked at her.

“I broke up with her. She was starting to get – well, I don’t want to say clingy. But she was suffocating me, and I had to leave for my own sake.” He smiled, and it was bitter. “If I’m such a good person, then why do none of my relationships last?”

“Hey, two years for each relationship is pretty long! You’re like, a serial monogamist.” He chuckled, and she thought she saw affection in his gaze, but when he blinked it was gone and she was left wondering if she had imagined it. “Maybe you just haven’t met the right person?” she suggested. “I’m sure they’ll come to you someday.”

“I hope so.” He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t enjoy being on my own for too long. It gets lonely.” When he said those words, she thought he _looked_ lonely, distant and beautiful, a solitary sparkling star high up in the heavens.

Her fingers itched to comfort him, to slide over his arm and offer reassurance, but a tiny voice in her head told her that maybe it would be better not to touch him, so she kept her hands clasped behind her back and waited.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to complain to you.” He ran his hand through his hair, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. “Please don’t tell Rin. I don’t want her to interfere. It was difficult enough trying to get our mother out of my dating life.”

She could relate to that. “My lips are sealed,” she promised. He exhaled, a sound of relief, and she giggled, unable to help herself. “I hope everything works out for you,” she said, sincere. He held her gaze for a moment, then smiled and glanced away.

“Thank you. You’re too kind.” With that, they continued walking down the stairs, and she thought about who his crush might be. She wondered if she knew them.


	8. Chapter 8

“I’ve been thinking about a new business venture,” Gumo declared, flopping over on her bed. She glared at him, still searching for her phone. Where did she leave it?

“Call me,” she said, shifting the stuff on her desk. She was pretty sure it was in her room _somewhere_ ; she distinctly remembered checking her texts before he barged in.

“So demanding.” But he did what she wanted anyway, yawning as he snuggled against her pillow. “Wow, this is comfortable. No wonder you’re always in your room…”

“Gumo, I’m trying to listen!” She crawled underneath her desk, tracking the faint buzz she could hear nearby. After a few more calls, she finally found her phone wedged between the desk and the wall, hidden behind her wastepaper basket. It took a while, but she eventually managed to slide it free. “Oh thank god, it’s not cracked.”

“Huh. It’s about time you changed your phone, anyway.” Gumo’s voice was strangely muffled, and she turned to see him burrowing into her blanket, wrapping himself up like a burrito. “Man, everything is so _soft_ here. I’m jealous.”

“Ugh, please stop. I sleep there. You’re going to stink everything up.” She strode over to her bed, trying to force him out; he just curled away from her, pretending that she didn’t exist. Which left her with only one option.

Gleefully wriggling her fingers, she began to tickle him, and it didn’t take long before he was a whimpering, floundering mess. She ducked as he threw a cushion at her – it soared past her head and landed on her desk. “Oi! You’re messing up my bed!”

“Am I?” he gasped, finally poking his head out from underneath her blanket. “I think there are better ways to create a mess in your bed.” And maybe she’d have been more flustered if it wasn’t for the fact that his face was still pink from all the yelling.

“You aren’t going to seduce anyone looking like that, my friend.” But secretly she had to admit he looked cute with his hair all tousled. He pouted but pushed the blanket aside anyway, and she sat carefully next to him, suddenly hyperaware of just how close they were. A guy and a girl, in a room alone. “You said you had some idea for a business venture. Spill. If you’re convincing enough, maybe I’ll invest.”

He grinned. “So, you know how during the festive season, we all go back to our families? And our relatives ask stupid questions like whether or not we’re still single?”

She nodded, wondering where he was going with this. “Everyone agrees that’s one of _the_ most annoying things about going home during the holidays. This is where I come in – by offering my services as a rental boyfriend!” He saw the look on her face. “No, think about it. I’m attractive, smart and polite when I want to be. Isn’t it perfect?”

“When you _want_ to be is the key thing here, Gumo. You hardly ever want to be polite,” she pointed out. “I’d be grateful for just one day where you and Rin aren’t jumping down each other’s throats. Would it kill you to be civil to my best friend?”

He rolled his eyes. “You make it sound like it’s my fault when you know it’s not. She’s the one who always starts things. I’m just an unfortunate victim of her tyranny.”

“Maybe if you stopped picking on her height she’d be less angry,” Miku told him, her voice mild, and he huffed, reaching up to smooth down his unruly hair. “Why are you always saying things to annoy her? I don’t understand. You don’t treat me like that.”

He paused. “Are you asking me why I treat you and Rin differently?” he asked, and his voice sounded strange. She glanced at him, and he was staring right back at her, something almost like disbelief on his face.

“I guess you could say so.” She fidgeted, thinking back to what Rin told her about his mysterious sketchbook. How it was filled with drawings of her. While she didn’t want to question things she wasn’t meant to know, she couldn’t help but be curious.

Gumo didn’t speak for a while. Finally, he cleared his throat. “What kind of answer do you want?” He held up two fingers. “I can tell you the truth, or I can tell you something you would probably rather hear. Choose wisely.”

He was suddenly being so serious. She didn’t know what to do. “Is the truth that bad?” she asked – he sounded solemn, and she was a little afraid of choosing that option.

“That depends on your definition of bad.” He lowered his hand, his gaze searching hers, and she swallowed, feeling like she’d somehow trapped herself in a corner.

“What would I…rather hear?” she finally asked, annoyed at herself for being a coward. But she valued his friendship too much to want any change. Her fingers clenched her blanket, seeking reassurance, and he considered her, green eyes warm like summer.

“I knew you first. You’ll always be my special friend,” he said, reaching out to pat her head. She felt a little like a child, but it was nice to feel him playing with her hair, his fingers running through the long locks. “Rin is just an unfortunate by-product.”

“Gumo, you are _exceedingly_ rude.” She shook her head, though her lips twitched.

“Yet you adore me,” he said, draping an arm across her shoulders. She leant into him, comfortable in his presence. “Anyway. Did I convince you with my stellar sales pitch?”

“Far from it. Any money I sink into this venture will no doubt disappear.” He frowned at her, tapping her forehead with his index finger. The silver ring he wore winked under the light, drawing her attention. “Why do you always wear that ring?” she blurted out, suddenly interested.

“It’s a promise ring…I’m kidding,” he laughed, noticing the shock on her face. “It was a present from my older sister, back when we were young and poor.”

“Wow.” She’d never have guessed it was that old – the ring looked shiny and polished, a perfect band of metal. “It’s silver?”

“Nah. Stainless steel. We couldn’t have afforded silver back then. It has sentimental value, though. I can hear her voice every time I look at it. _Gumo! Go study! Get your ass to university so you can get a good job!_ ” His falsetto was surprisingly realistic.

“Sounds like your sister is the main reason you ended up here,” she observed. Given what he was like, it seemed unlikely he’d ever come to university of his own accord.

He shrugged. “You can say that. My sister practically raised me since our parents were always both at work, trying to make ends meet. She took the higher education route as well, slaved her way through college, got a scholarship so she could work and send money back to help our finances. I could only afford to come here because of her.”

“Oh.” He said all this so matter-of-factly that for a moment, she didn’t quite know how to react. “I thought you’re on a scholarship too? Or something like that?”

“More like company-sponsored education, but yeah.” He slanted his gaze over to her. “I wouldn’t have been able to focus on my art if my sister didn’t work so hard. It was her sweat and tears that got me to where I am today. I told myself no matter how much I hate studying things that don’t interest me, I’ll graduate from university just to make her proud. It’s the least I can do, after everything she’s sacrificed.”

Well, now she knew why he was here. “That’s nice, Gumo.” She considered tacking on one of her usual snide comments, but decided against it – he looked so wistful, and joking around seemed disrespectful. “What’s your sister like?”

“My sister?” He grinned. “She’s a lot like you, actually. Kind of a slave driver. But deep down I know she means well.” He paused, giving her _that_ look – she recognised it by now, that almost thoughtful look in his eyes he’d get right before he said something that would undoubtedly fluster her. “Hm. Maybe I do have a thing for older sisters.”

“A thing for older sisters?” She raised an eyebrow, and he nodded, his grin becoming something closer to a smirk.

“Most of the girls I ever dated were older sisters. Even the ones I was sleeping around with. And now there’s _you_.” She blinked, then hastily looked away, her cheeks warming, and she failed to notice him reaching towards her. When she felt his fingers brush against her face, she jumped, her breath catching, but all he did was tuck her hair behind her ear. That simple gesture alone made her chest feel heavy.

“Sleeping around with, huh? You sure are a player,” she said, trying to distract herself from his proximity. He chuckled, and the sound of it made her toes curl – she shifted away from him, and luckily he didn’t seem to notice.

Or even if he did, he simply didn’t care. “I don’t fuck around _that_ much, you know. Just a few girls here and there, and believe me, they approached me first.”

She could believe him. “How many long-term relationships did you have?”

“Just one. It was back during high school. Young love, you know.” His lips quirked up. “She was in my art class and we worked well together. She’s more of a watercolours kind of person, and I guess I always liked watercolours? They’re so…peaceful.”

She wasn’t jealous. “Then why didn’t it work out?”

He shrugged. “Why? It just wasn’t meant to be, I guess. We fell out of love, slowly and surely. No other reason. We broke up a while before we went to university.”

“Love is scary,” she mused. “One day you think you’re desperately head-over-heels for someone and the next day, it’s like they don’t even exist.”

“Well. I think love is all about compromise.” He tipped his head back, staring at her ceiling. “There’s no such thing as soulmates or whatever. In any relationship, there’s bound to be some differences, but you work hard to get over them together.”

“I think this might be the wisest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” He laughed, turning his head to look at her, and she smiled back at him, relieved that the earlier tension between them was gone. This was comfortable. Familiar, easy and relaxed – that was what her friendship with Gumo was like. She hoped to keep it that way.

“Oh yeah. I almost forgot. I came up to your room because it’s about time for dinner, dammit. They have grilled cheese today!” He leapt up from her bed, eyes suddenly wide with panic, and she laughed, allowing him to pull her up.

“You and your obsession with grilled cheese. I can’t tell which is worse, that or your weird love for carrots.” She did not like carrots, while Gumo ate them raw as a mid-day snack. Miku would never understand.

“Sweetheart, you need to eat more vegetables. But that’s not the point right now. We have to _go_.” He took her hand, yanking her out of her room, and normally she’d complain but all she could focus on now was his fingers intertwined with hers.

* * *

“Len. Len.” She knocked on his door, hoping he was awake – though she still had his key, she was not the type to spring surprise visits on people.

She fiddled with the cookies behind her back, awkward at the thought of handing them to him. _It’s just a friendship thing_ , she’d say. It wasn’t because today was Valentine’s Day or whatever. Nothing to do with that.

The door opened, and there he stood, his hair undone – Len’s hair was just slightly longer than Rin’s, and he normally had it tied in a short ponytail. It was strange to see it loose. “Miku?” he asked, surprised – his eyes were heavy-lidded with sleep.

She pushed him in, slipping inside his room, and he closed the door behind her, still looking confused. She tried not to pay attention to how his thin sleeping tank hugged his body in all the right places, though she could already see in her mind’s eye the sharp cut of his hips, his narrow waist – _get your mind out of the gutter, Miku_.

“Um. This is for you.” She held out the cookies, and Len stared, uncomprehending. “I wanted to give you something today. I was thinking about it, and…Valentine’s Day isn’t just for couples. It celebrates friendship as well, right? Kind of.”

There were just a few minutes left until midnight. She was glad she’d managed to catch him before the day ended. After dinner, when Gumo finally got his fill of grilled cheese, she went back to her room and retrieved the cookies from her shelf. She had baked them in the dorm kitchen that morning and they were still fresh. She hoped.

She gave some to Gumo since she made extra, and it was the first time she’d seen him look so soft. But the rest she placed inside a pretty little bag, and as the intended recipient slowly took it from her, she averted her gaze, hoping her face wasn’t red.

“Thank you,” he murmured, still staring at the cookies. “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” she answered, folding her hands behind her back. “You’re a really important person to me, and I hope you know that.” She hesitated. “You said that you won’t accept gifts from girls you don’t have feelings for, but you’re not going to turn down my friendship, right?”

“Of course not.” He opened the bag, and she watched with trepidation as he popped one of the cookies in his mouth.

“How is it?” she asked when he swallowed. Gumo had stuffed his face with them, and she took that to be a good sign, but then again Gumo would eat just about anything.

“It’s delicious. I’m grateful.” She could just barely make out his smile in the dim room – their only source of illumination was the moonlight filtering gently through his blinds. But as always he was heartbreakingly beautiful and she found herself leaning towards him, unable to help herself. When she kissed him he tasted like chocolate.

“Miku.” He pulled away, and that _hurt_ , but he didn’t step back or push her off him. “You shouldn’t do this,” he whispered, and she frowned at him, frustrated.

“Do you not want me anymore?” she asked. She dreaded to hear the answer. Maybe now that he had feelings for someone, he wanted to end their arrangement. No more fraternising with his sister’s best friend. The thought made her stomach churn.

He exhaled. “I’ll always want you,” he said, his voice shaking a little. She wondered if he was nervous. “I just don’t know if we can –”

She kissed him again, cutting him off, and this time he didn’t resist. The cookies fell as his hands slipped around her waist and he held her close, pouring himself into the kiss. It was always heady being with him this way, and she closed her eyes, clutching onto him, wishing she wouldn’t have to let go. He burnt with longing, and she lost herself in his scent, felt the warmth of his fingers bleed through her cotton shirt.

When they broke apart they were both breathing heavily, and he reached up to stroke her cheek, his thumb tracing delicate circles over her skin. “Won’t you regret this?”

“I won’t.” He seemed too concerned about the consequences of their actions, though she couldn’t imagine why. It wasn’t like either of them was seeing other people. “I would never regret being with you. But if you have some reason to not want -”

“No. I don’t have any reason.” There was a steel edge to his voice she’d never heard before, a hardness that made her gasp, sudden desire coursing through her.

“Good.” And she returned to his mouth. She was pressing into him, walking him back, and her world tipped over when he fell onto his bed, his arms pulling her down with him. She straddled his lap, her fingers curled in his hair, and she thought about how much she wanted him, how their recent lack of _touch_ frustrated her to no end.

It felt so much better away from the prying eyes of others. She could feel his arousal against her, and she ground down onto him, causing a soft moan to escape his mouth, his eyelids fluttering closed. “Miku, you’re going to – _oh_.” He couldn’t complete his sentence, his words ending in a hiss as she reached down to palm his bulge through his sleeping shorts.

“Hey, Len,” she whispered, catching his attention, and his eyes flicked open, staring intently at her. “Tell me what kind of trouble you got up to before. In the past.”

He moaned as her fingers dipped below the waistband of his shorts, and she realised with a thrill that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Is now really the right time?”

“Yes. I want to know,” she insisted. His hips snapped up into her hand as she stroked slowly, languidly, the tip of him already wet. She’d gotten a lot better at handling him, and he shut his eyes again, his breaths coming out short, quick.

“Typical kid stuff. Graffiti. Playing truant. Hanging out with people a few grades above me. Nothing special.” She raised an eyebrow – now this certainly was not something she’d associate with Len. Her hand paused, and he groaned, glaring at her.

She basked under the weight of his irritation. It’d been a while since she last felt such strong emotions directed at her, at least coming from him. It was only when they were together like this that he’d let his stoicism slip, his expressions becoming open and needy. It was such an exciting change from his usual self, and she yearned for more – it made her feel special, made her feel _wanted_. Wanted by Len.

“Weren’t you like…twelve?” she asked, and he nodded, his gaze flicking between her face and her hand between them. “And you were already spray-painting walls?”

He huffed, a sound that was almost like a laugh but not quite. “That’s not too young. All you need is access to spray paint, and that’s not difficult to find. It’s not even the worst thing I’ve done.” He rolled his hips, and she yelped, her free hand shooting out to grab his shoulder. She could see his lips curve in the moonlight.

“What _did_ you do then?” She ran a finger from his shoulder down to his chest, and he leant into her touch, shuddering. “Good boy Kagamine Len, the child rebel.”

He narrowed his eyes, and she bit back a moan, almost able to feel the weight of his stare upon her. “I was in a gang for a while.” She was about to ask if it was one of those schoolyard bully things when he added, “They needed a kid to do drug runs.”

She stilled, his words sinking into her mind. “Drug…runs?” she echoed, not quite able to believe what she just heard. He exhaled, impatient, but she was too distracted. “What do you mean by that?”

He seemed to sense that she wasn’t going to move until he gave her an answer, and he sighed, his head lolling back so that he was staring at the ceiling. “There’s no special meaning to it. They wanted someone who wouldn’t draw suspicion to deliver drugs to their clients, so they chose a child. I didn’t know what I was doing back then.”

“How did you get out?” Hesitantly, she wrapped her fingers around him, gripping tight, and he _whimpered_ , his hips thrusting against her hand. Her mind was still whirling.

“The divorce,” he hissed. “My mother and I moved away. She didn’t know what I was doing, though. Only Rin knew.” He met her gaze. “I only realised I had been handling drugs when I got older. But it was too late by then. What’s done is done.”

“Why did you agree to help them, though?” Another stroke, her thumb circling the tip. Len groaned, his head falling forward. “How did you even get to know them?”

“I told you, I was hanging out with kids older than me,” he answered. “One of them had an elder brother who was a drug dealer. He mentioned he had a job opportunity for us. I wasn’t the only one working.” She could just barely make out the blue of his eyes. “We were compensated though. Enough that I could buy whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. It wasn’t much, but to a kid back then, it felt like a fortune.”

“At least they bothered to pay you,” she muttered, still reeling from the revelation. “It’s difficult to believe.” She simply couldn’t align his story with the image she had of him now. “Rin wasn’t exaggerating when she said you weren't all that perfect, huh.”

“Of course, she’d say that,” he rasped. “She knows practically everything about me.” His hands slid up her waist, supporting the small of her back, and she moaned when he pressed into her, her fingers twisting in the fabric of his tank.

“Practically everything?” she echoed, leaning closer, her forehead resting against his.

“Almost. She doesn’t know who my crush is.” His lips brushed against hers, and a hand ran up her back, undoing her bra clasp. “I intend to keep that a secret.”

“Can’t even tell me?” she asked, squeezing him once, twice. He kissed the spot beneath her ear, making her shiver before his lips slowly trailed down to her neck.

“Especially not you,” he murmured, and she felt rather than heard him speak, his voice sending tingles across her skin. “I don’t trust myself enough for that.”

“Len –” But he began to suck on the sensitive spot between her neck and her shoulder and she whimpered, tilting her head to give him better access. He was warm and smooth under her hand, and she shuddered, barely able to concentrate on touching him.

“I want you,” he whispered right before he bit her shoulder, and she jolted, the hint of pain fast fading into pleasure as his tongue swiped over the marks he left. She couldn’t find the will to resist him, and she withdrew her hand from his shorts, pulling at his tank top, a silent demand for him to strip.

He did what she wanted, and she ran her hand over the gorgeous planes of his body, her fingers dancing over smooth skin. “You’re beautiful,” she told him, and he responded by pulling her in for a kiss, hungry and searching.

They were wrapped up in each other, and she could hardly tell where she ended and where he began. At this moment, they were _together_ and that was the only thing she could focus on. His hands lifted the hem of her shirt, discarding her clothing piece by piece until finally she was spread naked before him, her core aching with need.

He was in a similar state of undress, and she admired him, studying how the moonlight dipped across his body, illuminating some parts while hiding others in shadow. “You’ve never been this direct before,” she said. An observation. His laugh was sensuous.

“Is it not to your liking?” He kissed his way up her body, starting from her thighs to her stomach to the curve of her breasts, and she shuddered, pressing her cheek into his mattress. The brush of his lips was slow, gentle, almost maddening.

“It’s a change.” She paused. “A nice sort of change.”

His teeth tugged at her nipple, and she moaned, her legs arching up to wrap around his waist. “Now that you know more about my past, things feel…well, different.”

“You can tell me more. I don’t mind.” Her legs tightened around him as he squeezed her neglected breast, sending a fierce bolt of arousal directly to her awaiting sex. “I think I’ll enjoy learning about you very, very much.”

“Hm. Really?” He lowered his head, gently sucking on her nipple, and she bit her lip, trying not to make too much noise. “I don’t have that interesting a life, you know.”

“Everything about you –” She gasped, choking on her words as his free hand slid down to her sex, his finger slowly circling her clit. “Everything about you interests me.”

“I’m honoured,” he whispered, looking her straight in the eye, and she cried out when he slid two fingers inside her, encountering no resistance. “God, Miku. You’re so _wet_.”

She barely heard him, overwhelmed by the sensation of his fingers curling within her – he knew exactly how to touch her, so attuned to her body that within minutes he had her writhing on his bed, his name falling breathlessly from her lips. “Len, Len, please,” she cried, her fingers fisting his bedsheet, her face tilted up to meet his gaze.

“Please what?” he asked, his hand slowing a little, just enough for her to pull herself together. He was _different_ tonight, less needy, more demanding, and she liked the way he took control, teasing whimpers and pleas out of her mouth.

“Please…please fuck me,” she panted, and he responded by inserting a third finger.

Miku arched her back, her lips parting soundlessly at the _stretch_ , and he swooped in to kiss her, his tongue exploring her mouth. Her hands shifted from his bed to his shoulders, her arms looping around his neck, and he continued to pump his fingers in and out, her entire body trembling around him. “Tell me what you want,” he said.

“You. I want you.” She was almost sobbing; he withdrew his hand, leaving her feeling strangely empty, but in the next moment he nudged her thighs apart and then he was pushing, a quiet groan leaving his lips as he sheathed himself inside her.

He didn’t move straight away. Instead, he held his fingers out to her, glistening with her wetness. “Lick it clean,” he murmured, voice husky, and her tongue flicked out, running over his hand. She tasted almost sour, and she sucked his finger into her mouth, her gaze fixed on him. He moaned, his hips jerking, and she felt a little rush of satisfaction from knowing how much he wanted her.

When he began to move, whispering filth into her ear – _you’re so fucking tight, imagine everyone hearing you whimper, imagine them hearing you scream my name_ – she was unable to hold out, pushed immediately over the edge of her consciousness.

That night, Len took her over and over; she lost track of time, lost track of everything but his warmth and his touch and his beautiful voice, coaxing her into oblivion.


	9. Chapter 9

Len still behaved like his usual self around other people, but she liked him best when they were alone.

It wasn’t about the sex. Partially perhaps, but not just that – it was as though admitting his past had broken some kind of dam within him, and now he no longer seemed to hold himself back, at least not as much as he used to.

She enjoyed this new side of him, a side she suspected hardly anyone else got to see. It felt like their little secret. Even though the knowledge that he liked someone weighed heavy on her mind, she comforted herself with the fact that _she_ was probably the closest person to him on campus right now. Well, besides Rin of course, but she wasn’t trying to fight with Rin, was she?

Miku left the school café, an iced cappuccino in hand. She had some work to finish tonight, but after that, she ought to be free, and she thought about asking Rin to dinner – it’d been a while since they last had a girl’s night out.

Thankfully no one talked to her on the way to her room. Gumo was currently stuck in some make-up class, Rin was playing badminton with a few friends, and Len was – well, she had no idea where he was, but he was probably busy. It felt good to have some alone time for once. She ought to make full use of this opportunity.

When she unlocked her room door, the first thing she saw was the fluffy white bear on her bed and she smiled, unable to help herself. After Valentine’s Day, when she woke up close to noon – thank goodness her morning class was cancelled – Len gave the bear to her, muttering something about commemorating their friendship.

He was strangely awkward the whole time, but she found it charming, and when she took the bear she couldn’t help but coo over how soft it was. She placed it on her bed, and every time she looked at it she’d get reminded of how flustered he had been.

No wonder he asked if she liked soft toys. But that had been some time ago; it made her think about how long he’d been keeping the bear, planning to gift it to her.

She adjusted her bear, glancing out of the window as she did so. It was a nice day. She could see leaves fluttering in the breeze, the sunlight washing bright over the lawn below. The sky was blue and cloudless, and she took a deep breath, happy.

Then she spotted movement, and she turned her head, trying to focus. She noticed a woman in a brown trench coat walking towards her dorm, and she blinked, wondering who she was. She’d never seen her before, and she didn’t look like a professor.

Miku watched as the woman walked right up to the front door, her hand poised to knock before she hesitated and pulled her phone out of her pocket instead. Taking a step back, she looked up at the building, and Miku ducked, not wanting the woman to notice her at the window. She peeked at her, studying her short green hair, her heart-shaped face, and wondered why on earth she looked so familiar…

Wait. Gumo had an older sister, didn’t he? She frowned, appraising the woman. There did appear to be some familial resemblance there. Maybe she ought to say hello.

She left her room, heading down to the front door. When she stepped out of the dorm, the woman jumped – wide eyes the colour of a spring meadow stared at her, uncertain, and she _knew_ this had to be Gumo’s sister. The resemblance was uncanny.

“Hi! Are you looking for someone?” she asked.

The woman’s face flooded with relief. “Yes! Yes, I am. Do you know if Nakajima Gumo is around? I believe he stays in this dorm unless he moved without telling me…”

“He’s in class right now.” She smiled. “I can help pass along an item or a message if you’d like. He’s a friend of mine.”

“Are you Miku?” she asked, and Miku blinked, startled by the sound of her name. How did she know? “Oh, Gumo told me about you,” she explained, noticing her surprise. “He said that – well, never mind what he said. Do you know when his class will end?”

“Should be pretty soon. I don’t think he has anything planned after that.” The woman smiled and nodded, turning around, and Miku called out. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Oh? I thought I’d go sit on a bench somewhere and wait for his class to be over.” She glanced back at Miku, her expression thoughtful. “Or if you could point me towards the nearest café, that would also be nice.”

“Um, do you want to come in?” She felt a little bad if she just let Gumo’s sister wander across the school grounds. She stared at her, and Miku fidgeted, self-conscious. “It’ll probably be more comfortable in here. And I think I might have his room key.”

“Come in? Would that be okay?” The woman frowned. “I’m not a student here, after all. And I’d hate for you to get into trouble because of me.”

“It’s fine, we’re allowed to have visitors,” she said, opening the door wider. “You’re Gumo’s older sister, aren’t you? You’re really pretty.”

The woman blinked, her lips parting slightly. “Oh…oh!” she said, taking some time to find her voice. “Thank you! It’s been a while since anyone said that to me.” A small pause. “My name is Gumi. Yes, I’m his sister. Eight years older.”

Eight years. That meant she was in her early thirties. She certainly didn’t look it – if it wasn’t for the air of maturity around her, Miku would have assumed she was a fellow student. “Wow, I couldn’t tell,” she said, gesturing for her to come inside.

Gumi slowly walked in, looking around the dorm as Miku closed the door behind her. “You’re too kind,” she said, her gaze flitting over the common room sofa, the coffee table on which a stack of dirty plates rested – Miku suddenly felt a little embarrassed, going over to pick up the dishes. She’d put them in the kitchen sink on the way up. “Which course are you in, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, creative writing and film studies.” The plates wobbled slightly and she adjusted her grip, hoping she wouldn’t drop any. “Gumo and I met through film history. I think he had to take a compulsory mod on that? As part of his art degree.”

“Yes, that’s right. He commented on that before.” Gumi nodded, reaching out to take some of the plates from her, ignoring Miku’s protests. “Don’t worry about it. You look like you needed the help,” she laughed, and Miku bit her lip, still embarrassed.

“I’m just going to leave these in the sink. I’ll wash them up later.” She turned towards the kitchen, and Gumi followed, the _tap-tap_ of her boots quiet against the hardwood floor. Although she was a relative stranger, Miku didn’t feel too awkward around her – maybe because she looked so much like her brother? It felt like talking to Gumo.

“You’re a very hard worker, aren’t you?” Gumi said, glancing around the kitchen. At least it was relatively clean today – Miku swore that every time she tidied the kitchen, people would make a mess of it the next day. “I remember _my_ college days. No dorm kitchen ever looks this spotless.”

She was unused to such praise, and when she answered she almost stumbled over her words. “I-I’m not the only one, um, cleaning the kitchen.” She placed the dishes in the sink, and Gumi followed suit. “But I do use it sometimes, and I hate seeing the plates and cups all over the place like this, so washing up is the least I can do.”

“The world would be a better place if more people thought like you,” Gumi hummed. “Do you need help? It’d be faster with the two of us.”

Miku blinked. “Oh! You don’t have to! I’ll get to them after you talk to Gumo.”

“Oh, no. I insist.” Gumi rolled up the sleeves of her trench coat, stepping towards the sink. “You’ve been so nice to me. I’d like to repay your kindness somehow.”

Gumi might _look_ a lot like Gumo, but she wasn’t much like him. Gumo would’ve said something about leaving her to it, then sat on a chair and watched her until she guilt-tripped him into drying the plates. “Um, if you want to help…well, maybe you could wipe the plates and put them on the rack for me?”

“Sure!” They did the dishes together, chatting companionably – Miku found out that Gumi worked as an accountant in a big firm, but she had taken a week off work and she was here as a surprise since Gumo hadn’t seen her in a while. “I get super busy,” she admitted. “And I’m hardly ever home when he is. I haven’t seen him in two years.”

“Oh. That sucks.” She couldn’t imagine what it would be like, being so busy that she had no time for Mikuo. “He mentioned you once. You gave him his ring, right?”

“Ah, that! Yes, I did.” She smiled fondly, her green eyes soft. “It was many years ago. When we were children. One of his favourite actors wore a lot of accessories. But we couldn’t afford anything like that, of course. We didn’t have much money.”

“Did he keep pestering you to get it?” she asked, half-jokingly.

“On the contrary, no. Gumo is a very sweet child. But don’t tell him I said that,” Gumi giggled, waving a hand in front of her face. “He was aware of our financial situation, but it broke my heart, seeing him take straws and flowers and making his own rings and bracelets out of them. I thought I could get him something cheap at least if he did well in school. So we set aside the money and I gave him that for his birthday.”

“He keeps it well. It’s so shiny. And I’ve never seen him without it.” To be fair, she didn’t think stainless steel could tarnish, but it was also pretty amazing to think that he still wore it after all these years. She was touched by his sentimentality.

“Is that so? That’s nice to know.” Gumi wiped around the rim of a cup. “He has a very unique sense of fashion, I must say. Ever since we became financially comfortable, he’s been getting all kinds of accessories. Earrings and jewellery and very interesting shoes. So I thought he must have forgotten about my little gift by now.”

“He says that he hears you nagging at him whenever he looks at it. That ring is pretty much the only thing that helps him study,” she said, and Gumi laughed, a melodious sound that reminded her of wind chimes tinkling.

“That’s not surprising at all. He’s never liked schooling. It just wasn’t his thing. Even though he’s a very smart boy…he could do so well, if only he applied himself.”

“He does well in his course, though! He’s always winning contests and stuff. And he helps out whenever our dorm committee needs graphics.” She didn’t mention how Gumo usually had to be bribed with food, drinks or one time, a kiss on his cheek.

She got around that by kissing a piece of paper and slapping it on his face. He wasn’t too happy about it, but she got what she came for.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Gumi’s smile was warm, and it made her feel all tingly inside. She was reminded of her mother, for some reason. “You know, you’re a great friend to Gumo. Help me keep an eye on him, all right? He can be a little wayward at times but he always means well.”

“Yes, I will! Don’t worry about that.” Miku handed over the last dish, and Gumi wiped it dry before she placed it on the rack overhead. “Let me see if I still have his spare key. We can wait in his room for him, it’d make a nice surprise.”

“I like how you think.” Gumi followed her out of the kitchen, up the stairs to her room. “Just curious though, if you don’t mind me asking – why do you have his key?”

“He just gave it to me. I don’t know why.” She unlocked her room door, searching for her keychain while Gumi waited for her outside. “Something about needing an alarm clock for his finals, I think. He’s such a heavy sleeper, it’s kind of scary.”

Gumi shook her head. “It truly is. Sometimes he sleeps so deeply that I’m afraid he’s fallen into a coma.” Miku came back out, her keychain dangling on her index finger, and she glanced at it, curious. “That’s a lot of keys you have there.”

“I have keys for a few of my friends,” she admitted, a little sheepish – this was against their university rules, but hardly anyone cared. “It doesn’t cost a lot to make spare copies, and I’ll make sure to dispose of them properly once we leave.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to rat you out or anything like that.” Gumi smiled. “I was a student once, and I understand. I used to sneak to my boyfriend’s room after-hours all the time! Well, fiancé, I suppose. We’re engaged now.”

“That’s so cute! Congratulations!” She clapped her hands excitedly as they went back down the stairs – Gumo lived on the floor right below hers. “When’s the wedding?”

“In three months. During summer. A perfect time to get married, isn’t it?” Her voice was wistful. “He proposed last year and I wanted to find time to tell Gumo face-to-face, but it just never happened. We picked summer so that he wouldn’t be busy with school.” She eyed her, appraising. “Would you like to come as well?”

Miku blinked. “Me?” she squeaked. “Oh! I’d love to, but um, won’t it be weird?”

“No, of course not! Why would it be? You’re my brother’s friend, it makes sense.” She laughed. “It’s not a big affair. I didn’t even want a ceremony, but my fiancé insisted. We’re compromising by having a little garden wedding. Just close family and friends.”

“I’m…I’m flattered,” she stammered, stopping in front of Gumo’s door. “I mean – well, if you want to invite me, then I’m totally cool!”

“That’s settled, then! I’ll send you an invite later. Why don’t you give me your number?” Gumi winked, pulling out her phone. “Making friends with younger people helps me feel better about myself. Like I’m not quite out of touch yet, you know?”

“You’re not _that_ old.” But she gave Gumi her number anyway, smiling. “All right, I’m going to open his door, so prepare yourself for the atrocity that is his personal space.”

“Don’t worry, when it comes to Gumo, there’s nothing he can do that will shock me anymore,” Gumi deadpanned, and Miku giggled as she slid the key into the lock.

They studied the colourful mess that was Gumo’s room – covered canvases, a half-knitted blanket, streaks of paint, dried flowers, open books, an unstrung guitar, an empty fish tank, clothes spilling out of his cupboard, and a completely unmade bed. “I swear that fish tank was not there last week,” she said, squinting at it.

“He’s always had a habit of picking up random knickknacks and carting them home.” Gumi stepped delicately into his room, taking care to only walk on the newspapers that littered the floor, covered in oil paint. “A child of chaos, this one. But everything he took served some purpose. Played a part in whatever project he was working on.”

“Mm. Maybe he has something planned for the fish tank.” She followed Gumi, taking the same path to his bed, and she pushed aside the half-knitted blanket, wondering if he’d ever complete it. Gumo didn’t look like it, but he could sew, knit and crochet, and honestly, she had to say he was one of the most artistic people she’d ever seen.

Could anyone blame him for being a little unpredictable? “He made a lot of my hoodies when I was in college. My friends were always very envious.” Gumi settled on his bed, looking perfectly at home among the mess. “Now he sells them on Veetsy.”

“The crafts platform?” She blinked. Gumo had never told her about that.

“Yes. He’s very successful there.” Gumi sounded proud, and she opened his Veetsy page on her phone, showing it to Miku. “Look. He’s one of their top-rated sellers, and his items sell out so quickly! Not that he maintains his page much, nowadays.”

Miku scrolled through Gumo’s page, marvelling at the sheer range of items he could produce. “Oh, he makes little charms! Isn’t this the actor from that popular series?”

“Ah! Do you watch it? I enjoy that show very much! He gave me an entire set of his mobile charms, I have one on my old phone but I just changed to this recently…”

They continued to talk, and despite their age gap Miku felt comfortable around Gumi – she had a very distinct maternal presence, and it genuinely felt like she was talking to her mum. Maybe a cooler, younger and more hip version of her mum.

She lost track of time, but eventually, they heard the door rattle and they stopped talking, turning to face Gumo, who stood in the hallway gaping at the both of them. There was a giant paper bag in his hand. “Miku? And… _Gumi_? Is that you?”

“Who else could it be?” Gumi tutted. “It’s been so many years, but you’re still all over the place. No wonder you can’t find a girlfriend,” she teased.

“I…” She’d never seen him look this shocked before, and it was amusing to watch. “I don’t – why didn’t you say you were coming? _How are you in my room_?”

“Miku let me in!” Gumi patted her shoulder, shooting her a conspiratorial wink. “She also told me quite a bit about what you get up to in school. I’m horrified, Gumo.”

His face turned red, and Miku stared, awed. It was the first time she’d seen him blush if she didn’t count all those times she tickled him until he was gasping for air. “Miku! What did you tell her?” he cried, and she shrugged, content to watch him struggle.

“What’s in the paper bag?” Gumi asked, changing the subject, and Gumo took a deep breath, finally entering the room. He stepped over his fallen heap of clothes, and she could see his ring on his index finger, gleaming in the sunlight.

“Sand. Pebbles. Plants. I wanted to try aquascaping,” he mumbled. “Saw a cool video tutorial and it looked fun.” His gaze flitted to his half-knitted blanket. “Um, could you just toss that onto the chair over there? I don’t want anyone to mess it up.”

“Like I’d mess up your stuff,” she huffed, but she carefully deposited the blanket on his desk anyway, making sure not to dislodge his belongings. His desk was covered in loose sheets of paper – she couldn’t tell what was school-related and what wasn’t.

“That’s a present, okay? For my mum.” He pouted. “I wanted to get it done in time for Mother’s Day but I’m starting to think I won’t be able to make it.”

“Aw, that’s so cute! Though you know Mum already has like, three blankets from you,” Gumi pointed out, grinning. “Why don’t you give it to _me_? I’d like a new blanket.”

“Wait for your birthday,” Gumo answered, placing his paper bag on the floor. “You’re so greedy, Gumi. I already made you a sweater last year.”

“Yeah, but a blanket is different.” Gumi looked exactly like her brother when she put on that puppy dog expression. Miku could see where he’d picked it up from. “While I do appreciate your presents, it’d be nice to have a warm crocheted blanket…you know, the giant yarn ones all over the internet. I thought they looked, uh, _aesthetic_.”

“Please stop trying to use our lingo. It’s super weird coming out of your mouth.” He sighed, leaning against his desk, and Miku thought about how different he was with his sister around. “I’ll make it for you if you pay for the yarn. It’s not cheap.”

“Oh, gladly.” Gumi laughed, then caught Miku’s eye and sat up straight, placing her hands on her lap. “I came here to see you…and also to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?” Gumo sounded nervous, and Miku wondered what was going through his mind.

“Why are you so panicky? I’m not going to scold you,” Gumi huffed. “I wanted to tell you face-to-face, but we just never had the time to meet…so I decided to visit on my day off.” She paused. “I’m going to get married this summer!”

“Huh?” Gumo blinked. “You? Finally getting married? To Piko?”

“Who else?” Gumi rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I have another boyfriend somewhere.” Gumo was staring at her, completely surprised, and she exhaled. “Why do you look so shocked? Can’t believe your big sister would ever get married?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “I’m truly happy for you, it’s just that you reminded me of how old you are,” he said, lips curving into a smirk. Gumi narrowed her eyes and threw his pillow at him, and Gumo yelped, his hands automatically darting out to catch the pillow before it landed on anything.

“Hey, hey! Don’t do that! A lot of things here are fragile!” he fussed, fluffing the pillow and dumping it on Miku’s lap. “I’m guessing you want me to attend the ceremony.”

“Yes! And uh, if you have time…help me with the decorations?” she asked, pleading.

It was Gumo’s turn to roll his eyes. “See, you only want me for my artistic direction,” he accused, though his voice was light, teasing.

“Of course not, you’re my cute baby brother! Who happens to be _so_ talented. I’d love to see your special touch on my big day,” Gumi said, her voice saccharine sweet.

He gagged. “Disgusting. I’ll do it, but I’ll charge you a fee. I need to feed myself.”

“Anything you want, Gumo.” Gumi rose from the bed, brushing down her trench coat. “In exchange for your generosity, how about I treat you to a nice meal, hm? Miku, you should come too,” she added, a lovely smile on her face. “You’ve been such a delight to talk to. It makes me happy to know Gumo has such wonderful friends.”

“You’re speaking as though you’re my mother,” Gumo muttered. “Stop it.”

“Did I not raise you since you were a wee baby?” she retorted, placing a hand on her hip. “I’ve seen you naked more times than I can count. I’ve fed you, I’ve changed your diapers, I’ve burped you, I saw you off on your first day of school, I –”

“Okay. Stop. I don’t need you recounting every sordid detail of my life,” he interrupted, shooting Miku a sideways glance. “It’d be nice if you came along,” he addressed her. “Gumi has great taste in food, though I can’t say the same for anything else.”

“Gumo! Take that back.” Gumi shook her head, tutting. “You’re still so rude. Someone needs to teach you some manners.” She glanced at her. “Maybe Miku could help?”

“Miku? You just haven’t seen her true self yet,” Gumo mumbled, and that earned him a bop on the head from his sister. “Oi! You knew her for like what, an hour?”

“And I already know she’s much nicer than you. You don’t deserve her,” Gumi sang, and Gumo just glared at her, rubbing the back of his head. “Miku, I’ll see you at my wedding too, okay? It’s a promise! I’m going to meet a friend in town – I’ll text Gumo where to go for dinner later, so you can just follow him then.”

She waved cheerily at them, heading out of Gumo’s room, ignoring the startled look on his face – once the door closed behind her, he rounded on Miku, eyelid twitching. “She invited _you_? To her wedding? What on earth have you two been talking about?”

“Mm, you. Mostly,” she teased, trying to get a bigger rise out of him, and he groaned, kneading his forehead with his knuckles. It was hilarious to see him so frustrated, at least about something that didn’t concern schoolwork. “I heard so many things…”

“Tell me. Wait. No. I don’t want to know.” He waved his hands in front of him, shaking his head. “Whatever you and my sister talked about didn’t happen if I’m not aware of it. Don’t you dare say a word,” he warned when she opened her mouth.

She pouted. “I wasn’t going to talk about that.” He gave her a wary look, and she leant closer, tilting her face up to look at him. “I promise,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

“That’s annoying. Stop it.” But he seemed to relax marginally, sinking onto the bed beside her. “Now, spit it out. What favour do you need this time?”

“I won’t say it’s a favour. I just wanted to say that your sister is super cool.” She poked him on the shoulder. “And also, you _never_ told me you sold stuff on Veetsy.”

He stiffened. “Gumi told you about it?” He sounded almost embarrassed. “I mean yes, I do, but I’m usually not that active when there’s school so I didn’t think it was worth talking about. I make more money off Blubble.”

“You have a Blubble account?” she cried, whipping her phone out. “I didn’t know that either! What other secrets are you keeping from me?”

“Stop, stop searching!” he yelled, tackling her in his panic – they struggled for a while, Miku giggling as she held her phone out, still trying to find his page. He managed to trap both her wrists with one hand, his other plucking her phone out of her grip, and she whined, attempting to break free. “You don’t need to know!”

“Why can’t I?” she challenged, and he paused, his chest heaving – that was when she noticed the position they were in, and all of a sudden it felt like time froze, their eyes meeting as her heart pounded in her chest. He was on top of her, so close that their noses almost touched, and she was entranced by his pretty eyes, sunlit green, the colour of spring. He seemed to realise their situation the same time she did, and his eyes widened, his breath hitching. She bit her lip, tension palpable between them.

“Gumo.” Her voice was little more than a whisper, and he stared at her – she saw what appeared to be uncertainty in his eyes, the first time she’d seen such emotion on his face. But he was comforting, the warmth of the fireplace on a cold winter’s night. He smelled like flowers and sunshine; he smelled like old books and spiced chocolate, a combination of all her favourite things, and she inhaled, greedy for more.

When he leant down, she didn’t turn her head away.

His lips were soft, wondering, and she closed her eyes, drowning in his scent, in the gentle kiss that reminded her of the delicate touch of a butterfly’s wing. Something was roaring in her ears – her blood? Her heartbeat? She could barely think over all the noise, and she kissed him back, questioning, needy.

Her fingers flexed, and his grip on her loosened slightly. She slid her hands down to play with his hair, and it was so _soft_ ; she instinctively sank her fingers in, and he let out a moan, a quiet, breathy sound that made her stomach lurch.

But he was the first to pull back, his gaze flitting over her face, his brow furrowed. “I thought you have a crush on Len. Why are you letting me kiss you?”

“I don’t know.” The question stabbed right through her heart, and immediately a wave of guilt flooded her, though she knew she had nothing to feel bad for – she and Len weren’t dating, after all. “You smell so good. I…I wasn’t thinking.”

This felt all too familiar. She’d told Len the same thing too, that night in the courtyard. Gumo was quiet for a moment, and she wondered what he was thinking, hoped that she hadn’t messed up their relationship somehow – all this time she kept telling herself not to entertain his advances, not to show any sign of reciprocation so that they could maintain their friendship, and then she went and ruined everything.

She was an airhead. An idiot. She didn’t deserve either Len _or_ Gumo. But before she could continue on her downward spiral, he sighed and her attention returned to him. “You know, you can be quite cruel sometimes. I wish you’d make up your mind.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her guilt threatening to swallow her whole. “We can forget about this if you want. Pretend that nothing happened. We’re still friends, right?”

He shook his head, and her heart stopped for a second, but when he next spoke she just stared at him, her mouth falling open in surprise. “We don’t have to pretend. I’ll wait for you to come to a decision. I’ll wait however long you need me to wait.”

“Why do you like me?” There was no point in pretending anymore, and she brushed her fingers against his cheek, seeking reassurance.

“That’s a difficult question.” He caught her hand, leaning into her palm as he rolled off her, collapsing onto the mattress. “I don’t think I can give you an answer.”

“I’m having a hard time,” she admitted, leaving her hand on his skin. “I don’t know if it makes any sense to want someone who doesn’t like me. But I still –”

“You still want to wait for him. I understand.” Gumo didn’t sound upset, and she tried to peer into his eyes, tried to see whether he was hiding anything from her. His gaze was open and honest. So completely Gumo. “I’m not going to rush you. Don’t worry.”

“You won’t feel jealous seeing me with him?” she asked. He was taking this situation remarkably well; she doubted she would be as calm if she was in his shoes.

“Well, I can’t guarantee that. But even if I’m jealous, nothing will change, right? I don’t see any point in holding on to something that hurts you. It’s better to just let go.” He smiled. “For now, let’s be friends. You can sort out your feelings another time.”

She nodded. There was a lump in her throat, and that made it hard to swallow. “Thank you, Gumo. For being so understanding.” She hesitated. “For…being my friend.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he answered, his voice back to its usual teasing lilt. “Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seriously gumo is killing me


	10. Chapter 10

“Sorry, Rin…I have dinner plans.” She gave her an apologetic look, but Rin didn’t seem too bothered, raising an eyebrow as a sly smile curving her lips.

“A dinner date, eh? With who?” She tapped a finger against her chin. “Wait. Don’t tell me it’s Gumo. I thought you didn’t want to acknowledge his crush on you.”

“Not Gumo. I mean, he’ll be there, but…his sister invited me to dinner.” She opened the door wider, inviting Rin in, and her best friend skipped into the room, immediately diving onto her bed with her shoes still on. “Rin! Off!” she cried, pointing at her feet.

“So naggy,” Rin moaned, but she did as Miku said anyway, kicking her slippers away. “Gumo’s sister, huh? How the heck did you even meet her? Isn’t she super old?”

“Yeah, she’s working now. Going to get married soon. She invited me to her wedding.” Miku threw open her cupboard, looking for something nice to wear – Gumo had told her to dress up, but she didn’t have many fancy clothes. “She came to our dorm this afternoon looking for Gumo, and I happened to be around, so we talked for a bit.”

“Oh. Is she like her brother?” Rin rolled onto her back, bumping into Miku’s bear, and she frowned at it, her eyes narrowed in thought.

“She looks just like him if that’s what you mean. But personality-wise they’re nothing alike.” Miku rifled through her clothes, pulling out the little black dress she wore for their dinner-and-dance last year. “Huh. I have no idea what to wear.”

“Miku, why do you have this bear? I’m quite sure it belongs to Len,” Rin said, her voice deceptively neutral, and she paused, glancing over her shoulder at her best friend. It was a little scary to see Rin smiling so brightly. “Are you _not_ telling me something?”

“It was a gift! To commemorate our friendship!” She turned back to her cupboard, not wanting Rin to see the blush that no doubt painted her face. “Nothing more to it.”

“Friendship? Really?” Rin’s tone was dry. “You think boys go out and buy soft toys for girls just to celebrate their _friendship_? What planet are you living on?”

“A planet where we don’t make assumptions about the way our friends feel.” Miku pushed a pile of shirts aside, some of them still with their price tags on. “Len was the one who said it was about friendship, so I’m going to take his words at face value.”

Rin groaned. “Miku, you _idiot_. You’re hopeless! He obviously has a crush on you!”

She shook her head. “Not every girl who gives a guy chocolate on Valentine’s Day has a crush on him. It’s the same thing! We don’t only give presents to people we have romantic feelings for! I mean, I give you stuff all the time too.”

“Yeah, but _that’s_ different. We’re best friends. Think about it. How long did Len know you? Less than a year?” she retorted. “And he’s my twin. I know very well the way he thinks. He’s not going to randomly give things to people he feels nothing for.”

“Okay. Say what you want, but unless he outright tells me he has feelings for me I’m not going to think too much about it.” She tapped her fingers against her cupboard door, taking a deep breath. _One, two, three_. “You know why I’m so scared of believing in him. Love, feelings, relationships…there’s no guarantee any of it is real.”

“Miku…” Rin sighed. “I know, yes. Who was the one who showed up at your door with chocolates and ice cream afterwards? But this isn’t the same. It’s _not_.”

“Rin. Please. I don’t want to talk about this right now.” She stared at one of the fallen price tags, focusing on the numbers, the brand, the size of the shirt.

There was silence for a moment, then the creak of the bed as Rin shifted her weight. “Okay. I’m sorry.” Soft footsteps and a gentle touch on her arm. “Do you need help in picking out something to wear? Though I’m sure you’ll look great in anything.”

Back in safe territory. She forced a smile, turning her head to meet her best friend’s gaze. Rin looked genuinely apologetic, and she felt bad for lashing out like that, but just remembering that episode was enough to make her eyes sting, and she didn’t want to relieve those memories. “Yeah. Gumo told me to dress nicely.”

“Why not wear that, then?” Rin picked out the same little black dress she’d considered earlier. Miku frowned at it, turning the dress this way and that – it revealed far more skin than she’d like, and she was in two minds about putting it on again.

“The last time I wore this was for the dinner-and-dance last year. You know, the one where half of us got drunk in that nightclub before the bouncers kicked us out.” She fingered the satin material, thoughtful. “Pretty sure this dress is bad luck.”

“I doubt you’re going to get drunk at a fancy restaurant, Miku.” Rin snorted, slipping the dress off its hanger. “And you’d look amazing in it. Put it on! I want to see!”

She shimmied into the dress, secretly relieved to note that it still fit her. Rin clapped, whistling long and low. “Oh, you’re gorgeous. Heads are going to turn for sure.”

“You’re too nice.” But she laughed, flipping her long hair over her shoulder, posing exaggeratedly for Rin’s benefit, and her best friend cackled, snapping photos on her phone. “I’m curious about where we’re eating though. Gumo didn’t say.”

“Maybe he wants it to be a surprise.” Rin slipped her phone into her pocket. “By the way, I’m curious. I know you’re scared of confronting him, but if let’s say he confesses to you one day. Would you say yes?” Her blue eyes were piercing.

She thought back to the kiss they shared earlier. How he was warm and patient and understanding, how his smell reminded her of chocolate and books and dried flowers. She thought about the way his pretty eyes glowed in the sunlight, almost otherworldly.

“Maybe.” She hesitated. “Probably. If he’s sincere.” Gumo was known for his flirtatious smiles and his playful jokes – while she was fairly confident that he truly did like her, she still wanted to be careful. Besides, she couldn’t let go of Len. Not entirely.

It was a choice between waiting for someone who might never return her feelings or believing in a friend who never seemed to take anything seriously. With that in mind, it felt easier to just _not_ think about them. Rin nodded. “If that’s your decision.”

She gave Rin a reproachful look. “You don’t have to make it sound so serious. It’s not like I’m going to get married to him or anything. Wasn’t it a rhetorical question?”

“Yeah, but with each day that passes it seems more and more likely that he’s going to make a move.” Rin shrugged. “You’re either blind or willfully oblivious. The way he looks at you…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but Miku’s heart stuttered anyway.

“I know the way he looks at me,” she answered, her voice quiet. She had seen it, seen the way he watched her with soft curiosity in his eyes. “But for now, I don’t want it.”

“Mm. Playing dumb as always, I see.” Rin made a face. “Sometimes, the way you cope with problems makes me worried. You’ll never trust anyone again, at this rate.”

“It’s easier not to trust people, isn’t it?” She met her best friend’s gaze. “All I need is you, Rin. There’s no need to take risks. You’re the one person I can always rely on.”

“Miku, I love you, but that’s seriously unhealthy.” Rin sighed, reaching up to pat her on the cheek. “You know that too. I’ve already told you like, a million times.”

She pouted. “Right. And I know where you’re coming from. I promise I’ll work on my issues someday. But for now, just let me worry about other things, okay?”

“Fine, fine.” Rin held up her hands in surrender. “To think all I wanted to know was whether or not you were free to have dinner. We should grab lunch tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay. Fine by me.” They chatted for a while longer, Rin ranting about her assignments and the bad grade she got on her quiz while Miku listened, nodding along. Eventually, they looked at the time and Rin decided she had to go.

“I’ll be late for training if I don’t get a move on. Let me know how your dinner goes, okay? And if you need help or something. I’ll beat Gumo up if he tries anything weird.”

“You know he won’t,” Miku laughed. “He likes to flirt, but he’s not an asshole.”

Rin waved a fist semi-threateningly. “I don’t care. I’d beat up Len too if he tried to do something you were uncomfortable with. No one messes with my friends, okay?”

“I love you,” she answered, and Rin blew her a kiss, waving goodbye as she flounced out of her room. Now that she was gone, Miku turned towards her cupboard, eyeing the clothes that had fallen out while she was deciding on what to wear. She still had some time left before she had to meet Gumo – maybe she could tidy up her room.

Thirty minutes to go. Her stomach growled, and she picked at her dress, studying her reflection in the mirror. She wondered what Gumo would think of her outfit.

* * *

When she met Gumo downstairs at half-past six, she couldn’t help but stare.

He had always been attractive, but this was the first time she’d seen him in a suit and it certainly hit differently. Gumo didn’t attend the dinner-and-dance last year, stating that he wasn’t interested in watching a bunch of horny teenagers grinding on the dance floor. At that point, she just assumed that he didn’t want to dress up.

After all, Gumo’s fashion sense was pretty unique; suits and ties had no place in his wardrobe. She’d never seen him put on anything even remotely close to formalwear.

But now, here he was with his hair slicked back, dressed in a dark brown suit – was that _leopard print_? – with a black shirt and a purple tie. It was a complete mess, but he made it look good somehow, and she just stared, unable to believe her eyes.

A group of girls walked past, giggling and waving, and he shot them a wink before he looked up and noticed her standing there. He smiled, his entire face lighting up. “Miku!” he shouted, and the girls all glanced back at her, blinking in surprise.

It felt strange to have so many eyes upon her, and she hurried towards him, keeping her face averted. “Where are we going for dinner?” she asked, clutching his arm.

His smile was filled with mischief. “You’ll have to wait and see! I’ve booked a cab, so let’s head over to the pick-up point. I’m sure you’ll _love_ what we’re eating tonight.”

She was burning with curiosity at this point, and she walked with him to the campus bus stop, where their cab was waiting for them. Gumo kept his mouth shut every time she tried to ask for information, and in the end, she gave up on questioning him.

“You look stunning,” he suddenly said, glancing at the thin straps of her dress. “And you had this locked up in your cupboard the entire time? It’s a damn shame.”

“Thank you?” She was a little embarrassed about his compliment, especially since this involved her taste in clothes and that was undoubtedly Gumo’s domain, but he simply smiled and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, and she had to look away.

Miku had no idea where they were going. Of course, she could tell they were headed towards the fancy part of town, but that was about it – she watched as the restaurants they passed became more and more expensive, queues spilling out onto the streets, and she fidgeted in her seat, desperately curious about their mysterious destination.

Surely it couldn’t be one of these restaurants. Most of them required reservations to be made weeks in advance, if not _months_ – Gumi couldn’t have booked a table in just a few hours, right? These thoughts continued to whirl around her head as they drove down the street, eventually pulling up outside a very familiar-looking building.

TAKO. Megurine Luka’s first-ever restaurant, popular among both renowned critics and casual diners. Miku had _dreamt_ of eating here someday – she was a huge fan of Luka’s cooking videos, and Gumo knew that. “Wait. We’re not eating here, are we?”

Her voice was so soft it was practically a whisper. Gumo just grinned and opened the door, waiting for her to clamber out, and she stood there on the pavement, tipping her head back in shock as she took in the signboard. TAKO. She really was here.

“Gumo!” Gumi’s voice rang out, and she saw her standing right outside TAKO, still in her brown trench coat. “You’re late! You know we’re on a tight schedule.”

“Sorry! We had to wait for the cab!” A lie. Miku had simply been late. She opened her mouth, instinctively wanting to clarify, but Gumo gripped her wrist and _squeezed_ and she immediately shut up. “Do we have a table already?”

Gumi nodded. “Follow me!” And Miku had to pinch herself as they breezed past the long line waiting outside, heading straight past the doors. Gumi led them to a corner booth hidden deep inside the restaurant, and Miku stared when she realised there was already someone sitting there. Someone with long pink hair and blue eyes and…

It was Megurine Luka in the flesh. She had to pinch herself again. “Luka!” Gumi cried, reaching over to hug her – the celebrity chef responded enthusiastically, and Miku shook her head, wondering what kind of world she had stumbled into. One where her friend’s sister somehow knew one of Miku’s favourite chefs? Was she dreaming?

“You should have told me earlier that you were visiting! I would have gotten a special menu prepared for you!” Luka said, and she sounded _just_ like she did in her videos, bubbly and cheerful. “I’m so happy for you and Piko. And I have so many ideas…”

Gumo cleared his throat. “Hi. Can you two stop pretending we don’t exist now?” Two pairs of eyes flicked to him, and Miku felt the sudden urge to disappear into thin air. “This is Miku. She’s my friend. She’s also a huge fan of yours, Luka.”

“Gumo! You didn’t need to say that!” she protested, but Luka was already staring at her, curiosity in her eyes. “Oh, um. Hello. Yeah, I enjoy watching your videos,” she squeaked, unable to meet her gaze. Her heart was racing, and she felt dizzy.

“I’m glad you enjoyed them! They’re one of my favourite things to do!” Luka giggled, reaching out to grasp her hand. Miku blinked, still in shock as she shook hands with _Megurine Luka_ – this had to be a dream, surely. How on earth did Gumi manage…?

“Um, I bought all your cookbooks, and your recipes are all so delicious and easy to follow! I’m super honoured to be here!” she blurted out, her cheeks warming.

“You’re so lovely! I like you already.” Luka nudged Gumi conspiratorially. “Is she your future sister-in-law, perhaps?” And Gumo spluttered, waving his hands to cut off that line of thought – Miku was still too dazed to understand what Luka had just implied.

“All right, all right, we get it.” Gumi shook her head, smiling at them. “Come on, Luka has kindly reserved a table for us tonight, so take a seat and enjoy yourselves, okay?”

Miku and Gumo slipped into the booth, and she found herself sitting directly opposite Luka. She could barely pull herself together. “Ah, I haven’t seen you since you were a kid, Gumo,” Luka was saying. “I still keep that little portrait you did of me, you know!”

She whipped out her phone, scrolling, and Gumo instantly flushed, reaching over to try and snatch her phone away. “Don’t you _dare_ pull it up,” he hissed, but Luka held her phone out of reach, giggling uncontrollably. “Look, look!” she flipped her phone around, and Gumo buried his face in his hands, collapsing into his seat.

Miku blinked. It was a photo of a drawing; though it was a rough sketch, it still looked detailed enough that she could recognise Luka. She thought it was pretty nice, actually. “How long ago was this?”

“Oh! I think this was quite some time back. Maybe eight, ten years?” Luka hummed, and Gumo groaned, still not looking up at them. Miku glanced at him.

“It’s really good, especially given that you were what, thirteen years old?” Or possibly younger. Gumo peeked up then, watching her through a gap between his hands.

“I don’t like looking at my old work,” he mumbled. “It makes me cringe. You only think it’s good because you can't draw, Miku.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t change my mind.” She stared at him, and after a few seconds, he exhaled, removing his hands from his face. He looked at the picture, then at Luka and Gumi, who were quizzically observing the two of them.

“Shall we have dinner?” he asked, changing the topic, and Luka shrugged, raising her hand – one of the servers popped by their table and flashed Luka a thumbs-up before running off elsewhere. “What’s on the menu tonight?” Gumo continued, looking very determined to avoid all mention of his art.

Luka smiled, seeming pleased with herself. “You’ll see! It’s going to be delicious…if I do say so myself.” She hummed, lacing her fingers together, propping them beneath her chin. “Gumi said that you’re going to help her with the decorations for her wedding?”

Gumo nodded. “And I suppose you’re going to help with the catering.” Miku just listened quietly to the conversation, wondering how on earth they all knew each other.

“Sweet! We should work together, you and I. We’ll make sure the food and the décor all come together nicely.” Luka winked and Gumo seemed to relax marginally, resting his hand on the table. “I don’t think I’ve seen your projects in a long time.”

“You haven’t seen _me_ in a long time,” he pointed out, glancing at Miku. “Oh, just so you know, Luka and Gumi are good friends. They go way back – they attended the same high school before my sister went to university and Luka went to culinary school.”

Luka smiled at her, her blue eyes crinkling. “Gumi and I were talking, and she mentioned she ran into a little darling at Gumo’s dorm in the afternoon. I suppose she’s referring to you, Miku.”

Warmth flooded her face. It was embarrassing to hear Luka talking about her like this. She honestly never thought she would, in her entire life, ever have a chance to meet one of her favourite social media personalities. “Um, I guess so?”

Gumi beamed. “She made me feel right at home! It’s nice to know that my little brother is keeping good company in school. He gets a little spacey sometimes.”

“Oi, stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Gumo groused. “Seriously, you should have told me you were coming to visit! I wouldn’t have gone to the supplies shop if I knew. If you hadn’t bumped into Miku who knows how long you’d be stuck outside?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise! And anyway, I _did_ bump into Miku so your point is moot.” Gumi took a sip from the glass of water in front of her. “Shouldn’t you be happier to see your sister? I’m starting to feel like you didn’t want me to come.”

“No, no, that’s not it!” Gumo interjected. “I was just taken by surprise. You know what I’m like about surprises,” he said, sounding reproachful. “I’m no good with them.”

“Yes, which makes planning your birthdays super difficult.” Gumi sighed. “Gumo is a bit of a – I guess you could say he dislikes the unexpected. He’s constantly planning, even if it doesn’t _look_ like he’s doing anything. A sly little fox, this one.”

He groaned. “Please stop calling me all your weird pet names in public. You’re even more embarrassing than Mum, and that’s saying something.”

Miku couldn’t help but feel amused. Gumi pouted. “But it’s cute. You really do remind me of a little fox, sweetie. And your love for shiny things, almost like a magpie –”

“Please. No more animal comparisons.” He held out a warning finger, and Gumi shook her head, though she didn’t try to continue. “God, I’ve almost forgotten how weird it can be spending time with you. You’d think an accountant would be more…normal.”

“I think Gumi is pretty normal. I’m like that around Mikuo too, sometimes.” She spoke without thinking, and the entire table turned their attention towards her. She blinked, her voice turning quiet as she continued. “It’s fun to watch him get flustered…”

“Oh, spoken like a true big sister!” Gumi giggled. “Right, it’s funny sometimes seeing how worked up you can get. You’ll always be my cute baby brother, Gumo,” she cooed.

“Miku, aren’t we friends? You’re supposed to be on _my_ side.” Gumo splayed one hand on his chest, looking betrayed, and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh. “No wonder Mikuo doesn’t text you too often. It must be humiliating.”

“He’s just not a great texter,” she said. “He _does_ call me to ask for advice, you know.”

“Do you have any photos of your brother?” Luka asked, her eyes filled with curiosity. Miku nodded, rootling for her phone in her bag – she pulled up one of the more recent pictures she had of him, and Luka and Gumi _oohed_ and _aahed_ , gushing over Mikuo’s brilliant aquamarine eyes. She felt a little bashful on her brother’s behalf.

“He’s so handsome! And he takes a lot after you,” Gumi said, and she just smiled, not too sure how else to respond to the compliment. “Yes, yes. He has your eyes.”

“Thank you,” she said, bowing her head, and luckily she was rescued from having to say anything else by their server, who came over with a bottle of wine and a platter of cheese. She eyed the bottle, nervous – she’d never been good at drinking.

“Wonderful! Now we can eat,” Luka said, watching as the server poured the wine into their glasses – it came out a clear shade of red, almost ruby, and the smell of alcohol wafted over to her, making her nose wrinkle. “We’re all able to drink here, yes?”

One drink probably wouldn’t hurt. She nodded, and the server placed a glass directly in front of her. She swallowed, glancing at the ruby liquid, and remembered the time she got drunk on Christmas Eve with Rin and a few other girls. It didn’t turn out well.

But she felt a hand rest on hers underneath the table and she blinked, sending Gumo a sidelong glance – he met her gaze with a twinkle in his eyes, and she found herself relaxing slightly, flipping her hand over so that she could hold his. Everything would be fine; she’d have to thank him and Gumi for letting her meet Luka later.


	11. Chapter 11

They talked and ate and Miku was taken aback by the deliciousness of everything she put in her mouth – Luka was a famed chef for a reason, and she eagerly devoured her meal, taking sips of her wine as she went along.

Luka usually worked with octopus, hence the name of her restaurant, and Miku found that it paired well with the wine. The wine’s flavour was light and mellow, just like its appearance, but _because_ it was so gentle she didn’t notice that she was beginning to get tipsy, her laughter becoming louder and slightly more erratic.

Gumo seemed concerned, but Luka and Gumi were simply amused, egging her on as they continued to pour wine into her glass. Miku scooped up some of her tomato sauce – this was so good, it obviously wasn’t just tomato, what else did Luka put in it? – and licked it off her spoon, washing the sauce down with another gulp of wine.

“Miku, you need to slow down on the drinking.” Gumo caught her hand, preventing her from lifting her glass again, and she narrowed her eyes at him, pouting. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m surprised you haven’t turned red yet.”

“Right, because I’m not drunk or anything like that.” Her speech was perfectly fine. It was just her head that was kind of woozy, but beyond that she was good. No, great. “Ugh, Luka, this is _amazing_. I don’t know how you do it. I want to cook like you.”

“Well, you can come to TAKO on weekends to help out in the kitchen, if you’d like.” Luka giggled. “But I must say I’m pretty tough on our kitchen staff. Are you sure?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” she declared, dropping her spoon on her plate, and Gumi burst out laughing at this point, shaking her head. Miku frowned at her. “What’s so funny?”

“You know what? I think I’ll take her home after dessert.” Gumo sighed. “I’ve forgotten just how lousy her tolerance is. I’m surprised she’s not unconscious yet.”

“Oh, speaking of dessert! Let me check on the kitchen – it should be ready by now.” Luka got up, and Miku watched as her idol walked off, her heart gripped by despair.

“No, Luka, don’t _go_ ,” she cried, or rather moaned – wow, her head was heavy. Did she drink that much wine? This was her second glass at most. Gumo definitely had more than she did. “Is it because I was too, um, too excited to see you? Come _back_ …”

“Oh, man. Please take good care of Miku later, Gumo.” Though Gumi’s lips twitched. “The sweet innocence of youth! I miss those days,” she added, sounding dreamy.

“Ugh, you’re making yourself sound like an old hag,” Gumo mumbled, placing a hand on Miku’s shoulder. “And you don’t need to worry, I won’t let her out of my sight until she’s back in her room. Miku is an absolute terror when she’s drunk.”

“Am not drunk,” she retorted, lucid enough to understand the conversation. “Um, just a bit tipsy. But not drunk!” she emphasised, holding up a finger. “See? One finger.”

Gumo rolled his eyes. “Yes, sweetheart. You’re not drunk. I trust you. But no more wine, all right? I’m banning it.” He shifted her drink away, and without preamble she snatched his glass and downed the remainder, ignoring his shout of disbelief.

Gumi was cackling. “I love her! She’s so fun!”

“And you’re so unhelpful,” Gumo retorted, removing the glass from her hand. “Come to think of it, you’re probably the reason I grew up the way I did. A scatter-brained mess, or so you like to call me. You just enjoyed watching me fall flat on my face.”

“Hey, don’t say that. Failure is the mother of success.” Gumi pushed her cup towards him, the clear drink sloshing around. “Here, some water. Might help her sober up.”

Gumo picked up the cup, but he also knew perfectly well what his sister was like and he paused, sniffing at the liquid. Then he glared at her. “This is vodka.”

“Aw, you noticed.” She laughed, smacking away the toothpick he threw at her. “You’re genuinely concerned for her, aren’t you? It’s the first time I’ve seen you this uptight.”

He thought about it. “She’s my friend. Obviously I’m worried. You’re not the one who has to put up with her hangover tomorrow,” he pointed out, and she grinned.

“Seems like my little brother is in _love_ ,” she whispered, wiggling her eyebrows. Gumo rolled his eyes, brushing her words away, though he did glance at Miku – she was in the process of dissecting her garlic bread and didn’t appear to be listening to them.

“Feel free to think whatever you want, Gumi. Though I wish you and Luka would stop trying to get all my friends drunk. You’re both adults, you should act like one.”

Gumi groaned. “Sweetie, I work in a major accounting firm. The fact that I managed to take leave during this period at all is a miracle in itself. Cut me some slack, okay?”

His lips twitched. “Fine,” he said, narrowing his eyes at his sister. “But please. Enough with the pet names. It’s _embarrassing_. I’m not eight years old anymore.”

“But you truly remind me of a little fox –” She saw the look on his face and she sighed, taking a sip of her vodka. “All right, all right. You’re so picky.”

“Thanks.” He glanced at Miku again, wondering how much she would remember after she inevitably passed out tonight. Hopefully, she’d forget most of what happened.

* * *

Miku could feel warm hands supporting her as she stumbled into her room, her whole world spinning. She was still lucid. Probably. But she couldn’t quite walk straight.

Gumo exhaled, depositing her onto her mattress, and she groaned as she kicked off her heels, instinctively recoiling at the thought of wearing her shoes to bed. “Where’s your cup? Ah,” he muttered to himself, and she watched idly as he poured some water for her, emptying the glass pitcher she kept on her desk.

“Here, drink this. If not you’ll have a nasty hangover tomorrow morning, and I’m the one who’ll get blamed for it,” he said, shoving her cup beneath her nose. She groaned again, not wanting to take it – the thought of drinking _anything_ right now made her stomach churn – but Gumo was insistent, and finally she wrapped her fingers around the drink, taking a tentative sip. The water was lukewarm, and she resisted the urge to spit.

“Mm, thank you.” Her head was rather heavy, but it wasn’t as bad as when they were on the cab. She had definitely passed out then. “Um…are you, um, where are you…?”

“I’m heading back to my room.” He sounded like he was trying not to laugh, glancing over his shoulder as he turned away. “You’ll be fine now, and I don’t think I should linger here. If not you’ll have to deal with a whole bunch of rumours tomorrow.”

“No. Stay.” She woozily grabbed his sleeve, and he sighed, meeting her gaze. “I don’t care about the rumours. I want you to stay.” Her water sloshed about as she moved.

He appraised her, looking thoughtful. “That’s not a good idea…” He was cut off by a whimper, and he exhaled, his expression turning resigned. “Okay, okay. I’ll go down to shower and come back up once I’m done, all right? As for you, you should at least brush your teeth and freshen up. Can you do that while I’m away, Miku?”

She nodded, smiling now that he’d promised not to ditch her, and he shook his head. “You’re just like a child when you’re drunk,” he said. “It’s kind of scary.”

“Go shower,” she demanded, ignoring his comment. “Then come back. Quick.”

“Demanding,” he muttered, gently prying her fingers off his wrist. “Fifteen minutes. Try not to get into any trouble until I’m back.”

“I won’t,” she said, waving her hand about, and he just shook his head, heading out of her room. The moment the door closed behind him, she felt a strange emptiness sweep through her, clearing her head a little and making her chest feel hollow – she pressed a hand over her heart, felt it beating underneath her palm.

It was so hot. She should go freshen up. Though her bed looked very welcoming right now…no, she had to brush her teeth first. She jammed her feet into her slippers and grabbed her toiletries, shuffling over to the common toilet.

The first thing she did was splash cold water on her face, and it felt good against her flushed skin. She lathered up her cleanser, staring at herself in the mirror – she wasn’t that red, possibly her only advantage when it came to drinking. Most people couldn’t tell when she was drunk since she didn’t turn pink very easily.

Her head still felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and she didn’t want to stay outside her room for long, so she quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth, blinking at the mirror as she studied her eyes. Huh. Were they always this shade of blue-green? She didn’t even notice. What was that word Gumi and Luka used…yes, aquamarine?

Whatever. It was too much effort to think right now. She took her pouch and headed back to her room, happily throwing herself onto her bed once she closed the door. A part of her mind said that _maybe_ she ought to change out of her dress before she fell asleep, but moving felt like an impossible task at this stage. Her bed enveloped her, her blanket soft and fluffy as a cloud, and she sighed happily, resting on her pillow.

She could pass out right now. It was tempting to close her eyes. But she gritted her teeth, raising her head just a tiny bit – she wanted to wait for Gumo. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt important to make sure he was around before she went to bed.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. She was fiddling with her phone, squinting at her Vocagram feed when she heard someone knock on her door. “Uh, come in, it’s not locked,” she called, voice slurring a little, and Gumo entered her room, wearing nothing but a black sleeping tank and cotton shorts. She couldn’t help but stare.

“What? You’ve seen me in my pyjamas before,” he said. He wasn’t wrong, but still – it felt like seeing a new side of him, for some reason. It was rare to see him wearing so little, but he looked good. Good in a different way from his usual outfits.

How could someone who spent most of his time focused on his art look so attractive? It wasn’t fair. “Do you even exercise?” she blurted out, unable to stop herself.

“Huh?” Gumo blinked. “Sometimes, I guess. It’s good for your health, you know. That plus eating more vegetables, which you really need to start doing. You can’t avoid your greens forever.” She was barely paying attention to the words leaving his mouth.

“I do eat my vegetables,” she mumbled. “I eat green stuff all the time.” Gumo’s hair was green. She wondered if it’d taste good.

He snorted. “No, you don’t. I can see you actively avoiding the salad every time we eat together. You’re going to regret that when you end up with constipation.”

“I eat lots of fruit.” Gumo’s lips were pouty, a soft shade of pink, almost like cherries. “Fruits have fibre too.” It would be nice to kiss him now, but he was too far away.

“It’s not enough. Have you heard of a balanced diet?” he asked, and she didn’t want him to lecture her about her meal choices so she sat up in bed and waved at him to come over. He did so, though he looked cautious, and she stretched towards him as he approached, her hands seeking his. “Come here,” she commanded.

His eyes widened, and he froze for a moment, looking unsure of what to do next. She beckoned again. “Come _here_ ,” she whined, and he finally moved, his hands reaching towards hers. She wrapped her fingers around his wrists and yanked him down, their lips meeting – he tasted like mint, and she clung onto him, trying to keep him close.

Gumo withdrew after a few seconds. “Hm, you’re still tipsy. We’d better not,” he said, his green eyes searching her face. She pouted, her tongue flicking out to moisten her bottom lip – his gaze landed on her mouth and flitted away. “Another time, Miku.”

“ _Now_ ,” she said, narrowing her eyes. He hesitated, but she didn’t give him a chance to slip away, this time getting up from the bed to slide her arms around his waist. He let out a quiet yelp, almost stumbling as she swayed on her feet. “You smell nice…”

He did. He smelled like whatever shampoo and body wash he used; there was a hint of flowers in there, and it smelled fresh and clean. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling, and slowly she felt his hand lower onto the back of her head, running through her hair. His tank top was warm. Like it’d just been taken out of the dryer.

“And you smell like wine and cherry blossoms,” he murmured, leaning his chin on her head. “You know, if you weren’t so tipsy then maybe I – maybe I would…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, and she didn’t press him to continue, too distracted by how pleasant it felt to have his arms wrapped around her. Was she stupid to have ignored all his hints, all the times he tried to flirt with her? Maybe. She had her reasons for that, but at this moment it was _nice_ to pretend there was nothing to worry about.

“I think I like you,” she whispered, and his fingers stilled, halfway down her hair. “You know, if I’d met you earlier…if we became friends a long, long time ago –”

“Don’t say anything more.” He pressed a finger against her lips, his voice soft. “There are too many what-ifs. All that would do is make us both unhappy.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice hitching. “I really am.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He went back to stroking her hair, and she tightened her grip on him, unwilling to let go. “I know.”

* * *

When Miku woke up the first thing she felt was the nasty throb in her head. It wasn’t the worst headache she ever had, but no hangover was enjoyable and she groaned, reaching up to press her hand against her forehead. Never again.

The next thing she felt was an arm draped loosely across her waist, and she slowly forced herself to look around, wondering who was sharing her bed – her gaze landed on a familiar head of green hair, and she exhaled. Gumo. He was still sound asleep.

Suddenly panicking, she peeked down at herself and noticed she was still in her little black dress from last night. Gumo was fully-clothed too, and she relaxed, glad that nothing had happened while she was drunk. She wasn’t sure how she’d react if they _did_ sleep together – it would feel too much like cheating on Len.

Even though well, they technically weren’t together. But was it weird to sleep with two people at the same time? It was embarrassing to even consider the thought, but she couldn’t help it, looking at Gumo’s peaceful face – she was taken by an overwhelming surge of _want_ , and she exhaled, turning away from him. Now was not a good time.

It was difficult to clamber up from her bed, but she managed it anyway, reaching for her cup on the desk. It was still half-full, thank god, though she noticed her pitcher was empty. She’d have to fill it up later. Gumo shifted in bed as she shuffled around her room, but she paid him no heed – he was a notoriously heavy sleeper, after all.

Gumo could probably sleep right through an earthquake. Or a fire. Or anything, really. He’d missed one of their finals once because he overslept. Thankfully their professor was understanding enough to let him retake the exam.

Miku felt along her top shelf, managing to retrieve her jar of coffee powder. Time to make some coffee, and hopefully it’d help to relieve her headache. She downed the rest of the water in her cup, dumped in a few scoops of instant coffee, then tried to work up the will to leave her room. She needed hot water, and the cooler was right _there_ …

It was too hard. She slid her feet into her bedroom slippers, her cup trembling in her grip. The cooler was right down the hall but it felt so far away. She stumbled over to the door, her hand reaching towards the knob, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn it. “I am never drinking again,” she muttered, loathing her past self’s decisions.

“Miku?” She heard Gumo mumble and looked back to see his eyes slowly fluttering open. She didn’t know how to feel about the fact that her name was the first thing he said when he woke up. “Where are you…oh.” His bleary gaze landed on her, standing right beside her door. “What are you doing?”

“I want to make coffee.” Her tongue felt like sandpaper. “But it’s hard to walk around.”

He sat up, stretching, and under any other circumstances she would have averted her gaze, but she was too out of it to do anything besides stare at him. His tank rose a little, baring just the tiniest sliver of skin, and she zeroed in on his stomach, unable to tear her eyes away. Gumo noticed her looking. “Like what you see, darling?”

He was so annoying. But she wasn’t able to say that out loud, so she just cleared her throat and held out her cup. “Could you help me get some hot water, please?”

“Since you asked so nicely.” Gumo yawned, running a hand through his tousled hair. He had a bad case of bed-head but he managed to make it look intentional, somehow. It was so unfair. She hadn’t looked in the mirror yet and frankly, she didn’t want to. He got off her bed, reaching out to take the cup from her, and their fingers brushed – her skin tingled, and she whipped her hand back once the cup was firmly in his grasp.

He gave her a curious look but didn’t say anything. “I’m surprised you were able to wake up at all,” she said, trying to calm her racing heart. Her headache wasn’t helping. “I mean, you’re always…um, asleep. I’ve never seen you waking up before noon.”

“To be fair, it’s almost noon,” he pointed out, and she glanced at her clock, noticing with a jolt that it was much later than she thought it was. She rarely slept in like this. “And I’ve been awake for a while, actually. I was waiting for you to get up.”

She frowned. “Huh, so you were awake this whole time? And you didn’t offer to help me get my coffee jar?” He would have had no problem reaching her top shelf, and now she felt a little disgruntled. Gumo grinned, his eyes filled with mirth.

“It was fun watching you struggle.” He patted her head, and she glared at him. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m helping you make your coffee now, right?”

She relaxed. He was right. “You’re forgiven,” she said, twisting the doorknob. “Please get going now. My head feels like it’s about to drop off.”

“You’re so bossy in the morning. Sometimes I wonder why I like you,” he mumbled. She blinked, staring open-mouthed at him, but he just winked and stepped out into the hallway without saying another word.

It was weird to hear him acknowledge his crush so openly, and she reached up to her cheeks, feeling them warm beneath her fingers. What should she do? What _could_ she do? She didn’t recall much of what happened last night, but she had vague memories of his arms wrapped around her, his slender fingers trailing through her hair, his lips at her ear, whispering, whispering – her face was becoming uncomfortably hot.

Oh, no. What had she done? Hopefully nothing too improper. She’d never be able to live it down, otherwise. She walked over to her cupboard, staring at the in-built mirror – her hair was kind of tangled, and she could see dark circles beneath her eyes, but thankfully drunk Miku had washed off her makeup, which was already far better than what she would normally expect.

She reached for her brush on the shelf nearby, running it through her hair. With some patience and tugging, she managed to work out all the knots just in time to hear the door open – Gumo returned with her steaming cup in hand, holding a paper plate with two sandwiches in the other. “Thought you might be hungry.”

“Wow. Thanks!” She was touched, and she put her brush back on the shelf, cautiously taking the coffee from him. He placed the sandwiches on her desk, and she sipped at her coffee, the creamy drink warming her from the inside out. The caffeine kicked in quickly, and though it did little to relieve her headache, she did begin to feel more awake. Gumo leant against her cupboard, watching her. “Want some?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Think you need it more than I do. I’ll make another cup if I want coffee.” She nodded, feeling self-conscious under his intent gaze – his eyes were such a gorgeous shade of green. She remembered staring into them last night…

“Um, did I do anything to you? When I was drunk?” she asked, thinking it was best to get that out of the way. The sooner they got over this weird awkwardness, the better.

His lips tilted up. “Hm. Where should I even begin?”

She froze, her hand halfway reaching towards the sandwiches. “Wait, what?”

“I’m kidding.” He laughed, and she exhaled, setting the cup down on her desk before she accidentally dropped it. “Ha. You should have seen the look on your face.”

“Don’t joke around like that! It’s terrifying!” she scolded, biting into the first sandwich. Peanut butter, one of her favourite spreads. Gumo knew exactly what she liked, and she couldn’t help the warm affection that flooded her as she savoured her meal.

“We didn’t do anything, honestly. You kissed me, but that’s about it.” He sounded so matter-of-fact that she didn’t register what he said at first; then the words sank in and she stiffened, her gaze fixed on her bread. “Not gonna lie, it felt pretty good.”

“Oh,” she squeaked, her hand quivering. “Okay. I kissed you.” She did recall his lips pressed against hers, the distinct taste of mint filling her mouth. Her heart thudded. “But nothing else happened, right?” she asked, beseeching. Did she want to know?

He stared at her, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he shook his head. “No. Nothing important, anyway.” He tilted his head towards the sandwich in her hand. “I couldn’t find the hazelnut spread so you’ll have to settle for second-best.”

“Peanut butter is fine. You didn’t have to, Gumo.” She finished the first sandwich and went for the second – he’d spread butter on it and placed a slice of cheese between the two halves, and it was delicious. “You’re truly a wonderful friend, you know.”

He chuckled. “I don’t do this for my friends.” His gaze lingered on her and she hastily looked away, gulping down a hot mouthful of coffee to avoid meeting his stare – she almost burnt her tongue, but it served as a decent distraction.

“Do you have any plans today? It’s the weekend, after all. Oh!” She suddenly cried out, remembering. “I was supposed to meet Rin for lunch! Where’s my phone?”

She found the stupid thing, which she’d tossed onto the floor beneath her bed last night. The battery was almost dead, and she saw she had a few messages from Rin. The latest one was ten minutes ago, asking if she had woken up yet.

Miku called Rin, nibbling on her thumbnail; she picked up after two rings, sounding relieved. “Oh my _god_ , I thought you died or something. Gumo wasn’t picking up my calls either so I was wondering if you two had been kidnapped on the way home –”

“Sorry, sorry. I got kind of tipsy last night so I crashed,” she explained. “I’m good for lunch but I have a nasty headache right now, so I’d rather not go too far.”

“Not a problem! I didn’t intend to leave the campus, anyway. Why don’t we meet at the nice café near the library? I have some credits that I need to use up.” Rin paused. “Is Gumo there? I knocked on his door earlier but he didn’t seem to be in.”

“Yeah. Why? You want to speak to him?” She glanced at Gumo, who frantically shook his head, looking nervous. Rin let out an annoyed sigh.

“No. I was just curious. Does this mean he slept in your room last night?”

“Um…” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to answer that, at least not with Gumo standing right there. “How about I tell you more over lunch?”

“Fine. You better be prepared for all my questions, Miku!” Rin warned. “I’m going to take a shower now, so I’ll see you in thirty minutes downstairs, all right?”

“Sure, thirty minutes.” That would give her time to wash up as well. They ended the call and she sighed, heading towards her desk and plugging in her dying phone. The screen lit up, her battery now charging, and she wondered why she didn’t do this last night. Drunk her was stupid. “I need to go take a shower,” she told Gumo.

“I figured.” His green eyes danced with amusement, and she paused, mesmerised by how _lively_ he looked. He definitely didn’t seem like someone who had gone drinking last night. “I have plans for today as well, so I won’t hold you up.”

“Your aquascaping?” she guessed, and he nodded, looking pleased.

“Yeah, you remembered.” He cocked his head. “You know, since you agreed to attend Gumi’s wedding, maybe we should show up in matching outfits. That’d be pretty cool, right? I could put together something for you if I have enough time…”

“Hang on. You can design clothes?” she asked, incredulous. He raised an eyebrow.

“Why not? I can knit blankets and sweaters and crochet toys and help you fix holes in your cardigans, but somehow I can’t design my own clothes?”

When he put it that way… “Gumo, you’re crazy talented. I don’t know how you do it.”

He shrugged. “Art and design are the only things I’m good at, so.” He met her gaze. “I’m sure Len is far more accomplished than I am. He’s on the Dean’s List, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” she mumbled, a little uncomfortable about Gumo mentioning Len. It didn’t feel right, for some reason. “But you’re plenty smart too. You just don’t –”

“I just don’t apply myself, yes,” he sighed, cutting her off. “I’m aware. Gumi has said the same thing one too many times.” He fiddled with his tank top, staring at a loose thread. “Frankly, I was never cut out for academia. It’s much too stifling for me.”

“But you do it for your sister,” she said, and he nodded, twirling the thread around his finger. “Did you ever imagine a life without art?”

“Nope. Can’t imagine it. I love art _and_ the arts. Music, theatre, graphic design, fashion, drawing – everything. Life would be so dull without all these in my life.” He grinned.

“Yeah, don’t think you’d be the same without it.” He met her gaze, his eyes soft, and she swallowed, suddenly unsure of what to say. “You know that sketchbook you like to carry around? I’ve always wondered what you have inside it.”

He paused, blinking, and she waited with bated breath, wondering what he might say. Gumo scratched the back of his neck, his expression turning awkward. “You want to know?” he asked, and she nodded, popping the last bit of sandwich inside her mouth.

“Well.” He hesitated. “Um. No point in hiding it anymore I guess. Since we’ve already reached this point.” He exhaled. “A few sketches of you. You’re kind of my – okay, this is embarrassing, but you’re like…my muse, almost. It’s easier for me to think of things when I imagine you doing them. Or wearing them. But I promise I’m not weird.”

She laughed. “No, I don’t think you’re weird.” She contemplated for a while. “A muse, huh? I’ve never been someone’s muse before. Would it help if I posed for you or something? Like, um…if you have a project you need help on, I mean.”

His eyes widened. “You sure? I _do_ have a life-drawing class that’s pissing the hell out of me. I hate drawing realistically, but if you’re my model, I wouldn’t mind so much.” He hesitated. “But being a model is super uncomfortable. You can’t move for ages.”

“That’s fine. You know I’m good at zoning out.” And anyway, if she was sitting still for long periods she would probably be forced to think about that essay she had been putting off for weeks now. Gumo made a face, but nodded anyway, looking relieved.

“I’ll let you know when I need your help, then.” He reached out, patting her shoulder, and she felt a small thrill run through her at his touch. “You should get going. If not the gorilla girl will blame _me_ for making you late, and I’d rather not deal with her this early in the day.”

“Firstly, it’s not _early_ anymore. It’s already noon.” Her lips twitched. “And secondly, stop calling her that! She’s not a gorilla!”

“Really? I couldn’t tell the difference,” he mumbled, and she poked his chest, a silent rebuke. “Fine, I’ll stop, but only because you won’t stop getting on my case about it.”

“Thank you very much.” She held his gaze, and neither of them spoke for a moment – when he cleared his throat and glanced away, it felt like she had been dragged out from underneath still waters, and she took a deep breath, fiddling with her fingers.

“See you later, maybe.” Gumo was the first to find his voice, and the smile on his face was so gentle that she almost couldn’t believe it came from him. “Have fun with Rin.”

She still couldn’t speak, so she just nodded, and he waved goodbye as he walked out. She heard someone say hello to him a little distance outside her room, and she knew that suggestive looks and knowing giggles would follow her the entire week, but she didn’t…she didn’t mind. Not really. It didn’t matter what people thought, right?

Miku knew that nothing was going on between her and Gumo. Not yet, anyway. He promised he’d give her as long as she needed to think over things and she was grateful for his consideration. Maybe it _would_ be easier to stay with him than Len…

But she thought about Len’s ocean eyes and the way he murmured her name every time they got together, enveloped by the velvet darkness of midnight, and she knew it wasn’t as simple as just _letting go_. She had wedged herself into a tight corner and if she had to be honest, it was mostly her fault.

Thinking about this would get her nowhere though. And if there was one thing she was good at, it was _not thinking_ , so she forced her mind to settle and picked up her towel and a fresh set of clothes. She had twenty minutes to get ready for lunch.


	12. Chapter 12

Rin was already waiting at the café, practically bouncing in her chair. When Miku said she might be late, Rin told her she was hungry and that she’d head to the café first.

Miku was wearing a pair of sunglasses and her only hat, all in a vain attempt to avoid the sun. The light was aggravating her headache, and when she saw Rin, she hurried over to her table, collapsing into her chair with a sigh. She hated hangovers.

“Oh, you look awful.” Rin pulled no punches as usual, and Miku groaned, taking a sip of water. The ice clinked against her glass, and the cool drink was a welcome relief from the weather. It was becoming uncomfortably warm nowadays.

“I didn’t even drink that much,” she complained. “Maybe two glasses of wine tops. I need to start working on my tolerance.”

“No, don’t. If you become a heavy drinker that will just give me more reason to worry about you,” Rin deadpanned, and Miku cracked a smile, putting her glass down. “So, tell me everything – where did you all go for dinner? And what’s his sister like?”

“Okay. So his sister’s name is Gumi, and…she’s friends with _Megurine Luka_. Can you believe it?” Miku herself still couldn’t. Rin blinked. “We ate at TAKO last night. I’m still half-convinced it was a dream because, as you know, I’ve wanted to eat there forever.”

‘Wow. Really!” Rin shook her head, eyes wide. “Okay, then I guess bumping into Gumi was a good thing. Megurine Luka…” Rin whistled. “She’s becoming really popular now. I hope you got her autograph. You know, before she _seriously_ blows up.”

“Oh. Um. Okay, I didn’t,” she admitted. Rin frowned. “But she did say I could help her out at TAKO if I wanted to.” At least, that was what she recalled. Some parts of last night were still kind of fuzzy. “I’m contemplating. It’s not that I want to be a chef or anything, but you’ve seen her videos…she’s an amazing person and I like her a lot.”

“Is she any different in real life? Like, snobby or something?” Rin asked.

“Nope, she's the same! Warm and funny and genuine. She’s going to help Gumi with her wedding lunch, and I’m going to attend, so I’m looking forward to that.”

Rin nodded, looking impressed. “You’re so lucky. And to think all you had been doing was lazing about in your room.” She frowned. “I would never have guessed that Gumo had such connections. Wonder if he knows anyone else in the industry.”

“Hm, given his talents, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.” Miku thought about it. “He submitted work for a few games before, didn’t he? Among other things. We can ask him someday, I don’t think he’d mind talking about it.”

“Yeah, but that would probably inflate his already enormous ego.” She snorted. “You of all people should know that. Every time we request his help for collaterals…it’d be easier to just _pay_ him sometimes. But he always wants you to do stuff for him.”

“He doesn’t ask for much, though,” she told her, voice mild. “Most of the time he just wants a meal. And once or twice he asked me to mail parcels on his behalf when I went to town.” She decided not to bring up the one time he asked for a kiss – after what transpired last night, it felt a little dangerous to talk about that now.

“Yeah, sure,” Rin said, sounding dismissive. “And I know, he’s basically a professional artist and he’s doing stuff practically for free, we should be grateful, yada yada. This does not change the fact that he can be an insufferable prick at times.”

“Because he calls you gorilla girl?” she asked. Rin’s eyebrow twitched.

“Do you think I, the great Kagamine Rin, would be affected by something so trivial?” she declared. Miku was pretty confident that Rin was at _least_ annoyed by it.

“Of course not,” she said. Rin nodded, looking pleased with her support. “Well, that was my night for me. Nothing else happened. I was starstruck the entire dinner.”

“No, no. Don’t move on so quickly.” Rin slammed a hand on the table, leaning closer. “What’s up with Gumo being in your room last night, huh?”

She stiffened, suddenly thankful that she was wearing sunglasses. It made answering her question much easier since she didn’t have to look Rin in the eye. “Oh, I told you I was tipsy, right? He helped me to my room and decided to stay just in case I needed anything. He was worried I might hurt myself. You know how clumsy I am.”

Her laughter sounded forced to her ears, and Rin appeared to think that too, her blue eyes narrowing. She hated looking into Rin’s eyes; they always seemed to pierce right through her, almost as though she could read her mind. “Mm, sure. Miku, I know there’s something you’re not telling me. You almost never smile with teeth.”

She abruptly pressed her lips together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon, I’m your best friend. You tell me _everything_ ,” she cajoled, and Miku wavered, wondering if she ought to bring up her current situation. The main reason she didn’t want to was that it would open up a whole can of worms – she wasn’t ready to face her problems right now, but Rin looked so eager that it was difficult to say no.

“He…” She hesitated, and Rin watched her, almost wriggling in anticipation. “He kind of admitted his feelings for me. I didn’t tell him anything, though.”

“Oh.” Rin blinked. “Well. Do you like him? You two have been really close lately.”

“I don’t know for sure.” She paused. “But I think I do. He’s funny and sweet and he’s good at making me feel comfortable. I enjoy his company a lot. And I know I like him enough that I wouldn’t outright turn him down.” She sighed. “But I’m not sure…”

“Because you have feelings for Len?” Rin supplied, and Miku nodded, staring down at the table. Rin groaned. “I already told you, Len definitely has a crush on you.”

“Did you ask him?” She glanced up, meeting her best friend’s gaze, and Rin exhaled.

“No, because you told me not to, remember?” She shook her head. “But I don’t need to ask because it’s so obvious. I already told you, guys don’t buy toys for no reason. Guys don’t buy _anything_ unless it’s for their good friend’s birthday, and your birthday isn’t any time soon so don’t try to feed me that. You’re simply in denial.”

“Guys buy stuff for other occasions too!” she pointed out, and Rin glared at her.

“Yeah, sure. Like on Valentine’s Day. Or their first anniversary. Or when they’re trying to propose. Do you see what all these have in common, Miku?”

“Ugh.” She fell back against her chair, kneading her pounding temple. “Fine. Let’s say that Len does, for some unfathomable reason, have a crush on me. It doesn’t change anything. Not anymore. Gumo already confessed that he likes me.”

Rin looked like she pitied her. “You know the number of girls who would kill to be in your situation? Two fairly attractive guys, both trying to win your heart.”

“It’s stressful, that’s what it is.” Their conversation was interrupted by the buzzer on their table, and Rin got up from her chair, heading over to the counter. Miku waited, filled with anxiety, and she took another sip of water in an attempt to calm her nerves.

Len didn’t like her. He _didn’t_. If he did he would have said something by now – there were so many missed opportunities, so many nights where they were alone. So why didn’t he? She drew a line through the condensation on her glass, contemplating.

“Here you go – carbonara for you, and beef lasagne for me.” Rin was back, and she set their food down, placing the tray on another table. “You always get the same thing so I went ahead and ordered. Hope you didn’t want to try something new today.”

Miku gave her a grateful look. “Nope, I’m fine with this. Thanks. I’ll pay you later.”

“Oh, take your time. I used my expiring credits so it doesn’t matter to me.” Rin settled into her chair, humming to herself. “Huh. Did you notice that every time we meet at this café, it’s because one of us has some problem the other needs to give advice on?”

She laughed. “Yeah. It’s like our favourite heart-to-heart spot.” She twirled some of the pasta around her fork, poking listlessly at the bacon. “The last time we were here, you were thinking about whether or not you should accept that sports scholarship…”

Rin groaned. “Man, don’t remind me.” She ran her fingers through her hair – she had finally gotten her hair cut, and now it was in its usual pixie, cropped close to her ears. “I think I’ll be traumatised forever from making that decision.”

“Did you ever regret turning it down?” she wondered. Rin shrugged, cutting into her lasagne. The smell of molten cheese wafted over to her, making her nose twitch.

“I don’t think it’s good to dwell on what-ifs. I rejected the scholarship so I’ll just move on from there – thinking about that decision will bring me nothing but grief.” She offered her fork to Miku. “Want some? You look very interested in my lunch.”

“Just a bit,” she said, watching as Rin cut out a small piece of lasagne for her. “I guess that’s a good mentality to have. Wish I could do the same.”

“You can’t change who you are.” Miku took hold of Rin’s fork and ate the lasagne, the savoury cheese and tomato and bits of beef harmonising perfectly on her tongue. “If you could, then you wouldn’t have such a crippling fear of change. Or relationships.”

“I’m not afraid of _relationships_ …” she muttered, trying to ignore Rin’s raised eyebrow. “I just don’t think people can be trusted. It’s too hard to understand their intentions.”

“And I’m telling you that not everyone is an asshole like he was,” Rin answered. “He’s stupid, Miku. An unquestionable idiot. Clearly an exception rather than the norm.”

The pasta was overcooked today. “I know that. You have it drilled into my head.”

“Yeah, but that’s just blind memorisation. Useless. You can chant it like a mantra but you obviously don’t believe it to be true.” Rin said this so matter-of-factly that she could feel her cheeks burn, her shame painted on her face for all to see.

“I want to believe it. But whenever I think back to that memory I just hate myself for being so dumb. For not seeing the truth earlier. It was right in my face. The way his friends stared at me. How they laughed every time they saw us together. And –”

“Wait, hang on. Take deep breaths,” Rin interrupted, stopping her before she could go on another tirade. Miku nodded, inhaling, squeezing her eyes shut to quieten the turmoil in her head. “You know, your situation sucks. You’re frightened of getting a boyfriend but at the same time, you’re desperate to not be alone. So complicated.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” she muttered, shovelling a forkful of pasta in her mouth. “Like I don’t already think about that every single day.”

“I’m not making fun of you or anything. I just think that’s a tough situation to be in.” Rin propped her chin on the back of her hand. “It’s not like I can empathise. You know how I am about relationships. I’ve never understood what falling in love feels like.”

“Yeah, I know.” The bacon was chewy. On the bright side, the sauce tasted good. She liked the carbonara here because it was one of the rare places that actually used eggs and parmesan rather than the usual heavy cream sauce. “And that’s enviable.”

Rin laughed. “Is it? Sometimes I do wonder if I’m missing out on anything. Or if I just haven’t met the right person. But then I look at you and, well, I don’t think I want to be in your situation.” Her eyes softened. “Normally I’d encourage you to talk to Len, but Gumo treats you well, so I don’t want to be biased. They’re both good people.”

“I wish someone would just decide for me,” she mumbled. “I don’t want to end up hurting anyone.” Seriously, how did she even end up in this situation?

“Would it be easier if I got confirmation from Len about his feelings? That’s why you’re paralysed now, right? Because you can’t _believe_ that he would like you back?”

“I don’t know if that would change anything.” She slumped onto the table, her cheek pressed against the cool surface. “Maybe it would have helped if I was still ignoring Gumo’s feelings, but I can’t avoid him anymore. I don’t want to just wave it off, either.”

Rin had already finished half of her lasagne. “But it’s better than not knowing, right? I’m his sister, after all. Anyone else would take advantage of that.”

“Yeah, but I’m not them.” She took another sip of water. The pasta was already helping to perk her up. “Everything that’s happened so far – I don’t know. I’m pretty close to my limit.” She sighed. “I don’t want to know anything else for now.”

“Fair enough.” Rin reached over, stealing some of her food. “We don’t want to stress out your big writer brain with all this information.”

“Speaking of writer's brain. I have an assignment due next week. We have to workshop and I’m nowhere near done.” She groaned. “My ideas just aren’t coming to me.”

“What’s your thing about?” Rin asked with her mouth full, and Miku pushed her plate over, deciding that her carbonara would be better appreciated elsewhere.

“We have to submit three short stories by the end of the semester. I’m done with one? The other two are annoying me.” She found herself relaxing a little as she complained to Rin – it was easier to talk about schoolwork than her love life. “Oh, and once we’re finished we have to let our classmates dissect our _babies_. It hurts!”

Rin snorted. “Writers!” She burst out laughing at the look on Miku’s face. “I’m kidding. I know, it must suck to hear criticism about something you worked so hard on.”

“Uh-huh.” She paused. “All I have in my head right now is a plot about a boy who gets mixed up with the wrong crowd. But he doesn’t know what he’s doing is bad, and when his parents separate he’s forced to move away and confront his inner demons…”

“Have you been talking to Len?” Rin’s fork paused in mid-air, halfway to her mouth. Her piece of lasagne fell onto the plate, but she didn’t seem to care, her gaze fixed on Miku, and too late she remembered where she’d heard that narrative from.

“No. Why do you ask?” She couldn’t explain why she felt the sudden urge to lie – Rin probably wouldn’t make any fuss about it. But she didn’t want to admit she had any kind of relationship with Len, at least beyond what Rin could observe.

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, nothing much. I just suddenly thought about him, that’s all.” She scooped up her fallen lasagne. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Miku’s heart thudded, and she forced herself to shake her head, already feeling guilty. But she had the feeling that being honest would make things difficult later on, and she’d rather avoid that. Rin paused, then shrugged. “All right then.”

“What are you going to do after this?” she asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Hit the gym. I’m in the mood for a nice, leisurely run today.” She winced – Rin’s idea of a leisurely run included sprinting on the treadmill at a steep incline. “But I guess I’ll let my lunch digest a little first. Maybe I’ll try to figure out my assignment…”

“Another one?” Rin was a math major, to everyone’s surprise. Most people automatically assumed she did sports science. She made a face.

“Math assignments are never-ending. Just like the value of pi.” Miku groaned at her awful joke and Rin frowned, playfully offended. “What about you?”

“I’ll probably try to bang out something in time for the workshop next week.” She finished the rest of her water. “You want to work together in the common room?”

“Hm. Nah, not this time. I need to concentrate.” Rin’s expression was sour, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re welcome to join me at the gym later, though.”

“No thank you.” She glanced out of the café, looking at the people streaming in and out of the library. “Maybe I’ll take a nap.”

“Yeah, you should.” Rin peered at her. “You’re probably the only person I know who doesn’t sleep in after getting drunk the night before.”

“I woke up close to noon. That’s sleeping in.” Rin just raised an eyebrow, then finished the last bit of carbonara on her plate, washing it down with a mouthful of water.

“If you insist.” She got up from her seat, brushing down her shirt. “I’m going to pick up stuff at the convenience store. No, don’t come with me,” she said when Miku opened her mouth. “You need more rest. But do you want anything?”

“Um, cup noodles. I’m running out.” The pasta was beginning to make her feel queasy. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to eat something so rich right after getting up.

“Okay. Spicy chicken as usual?” She gave Rin a thumbs-up, and Rin frowned at her, looking concerned. “You’re not looking too good. Go back to your room.”

“Yes, yes. Whatever you say, Mum.” She stood and was immediately struck by a wave of nausea – her hangover was a whole lot worse than she thought. “I’ll get going,” she mumbled, pulling her hat down to shield her eyes from the mid-day sun.

“You need me to walk you back? I’m afraid you’ll knock out in the middle of campus the way you are now,” Rin said, but Miku waved a hand limply, taking a step towards the café entrance. “Ugh, you’re so stubborn sometimes.”

“I’ll be fine, I swear. Go get me some cup noodles. Pretty please?” she wheedled, and Rin exhaled, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

“Since you’re so sure. But don’t come crying to me later if you _do_ collapse in the hallway. I don’t have time to put up with your nonsense today.”

“Even if I did that, you'd still love me,” she pointed out, and Rin cracked a grin.

“Unfortunately I do, in all your dumb glory. Maybe it’s time to get a new best friend.”

Miku simply slid down her sunglasses and rolled her eyes at Rin – oh god, that actually _hurt_ – and the two of them went on their separate ways.


	13. Chapter 13

When Miku climbed up the stairs to her room, she walked past two girls, giggling and talking, and when they saw her they abruptly fell silent, wide grins on their faces.

“What happened?” she asked, and they just shook their heads, hurrying down the stairs past her. She frowned, but decided not to question it – maybe there was some dumb rumour floating about again. People would forget about it before long.

She finally reached her floor, groaning to herself, and then she stopped and stared – Len was standing outside her door, his hands shoved in his pockets, pointedly ignoring the girls peeking at him from around the corner. Her heart leapt to her throat.

“Len?” she called, wondering if she was somehow mistaken, and he looked up at the sound of her voice, his face filled with relief. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.” He glanced around, looking rather uncomfortable. “Can we go inside your room first? I feel like I’m being watched…”

Well, he _was_. But she decided not to point that out. “Yeah, sure. Hang on.” She fished her key out of her pocket, unlocking the door, and then she grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside her room. He yelped, startled by the sudden gesture, but she was relieved to be away from the curious stares of passers-by.

“What did you want to talk about?” Len never came to her dorm unless he was looking for Rin, and she was pretty sure he knew her schedule better than she did. He inhaled, and she stared at him, her heart beating uncomfortably fast.

“You know how we’ve been _involved_ with each other the past few months?” he asked, and she nodded, unable to help the cold dread that coiled in her gut. Was he going to suggest that they break things off? “I was wondering if you’d like to do…well, more.”

That made her pause. “More? What do you mean?”

He sighed. “We only ever seem to meet for one reason. Not that I want to stop, but it’d be nice to get to know each other outside of that. At least, that’s how I feel.” His eyes were earnest. “But it’s up to you. I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

“Oh.” Her pounding head was making it difficult to think. “Like, you want to be friends? Aren’t we already friends, though?”

“Maybe we can become better friends.” He peered at her. “Just wondering. Why are you dressed like this today? Hangover?”

“Yes,” she moaned, taking off her hat and sunglasses and tossing them on her desk. “I feel like crap. Shouldn’t have eaten that carbonara.”

His lips twitched. “Want some water? It’ll help with the headache. Your pitcher is empty – I can fill it up for you if you’d like.”

“Oh! That would be nice.” Then she thought about the girls lurking outside. “But won’t it be uncomfortable for you? There are lots of people hanging around the hallway.”

“It’s fine. I can ignore them.” Len grabbed the pitcher, then placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, steering her towards her bed. “Just rest for now. I’ll be right back.”

She took his advice, curling up on her bed and watching him with her eyelids slowly lowering – Len left her room, and she thought about how _nice_ he was, how he always treated her so well, soft and sweet and tender. His eyes were ever-changing, waves crashing against the shore, and looking at him never failed to take her breath away.

Miku glanced at the white bear on her bed, then cuddled it against her chest, resting her chin on the fluffy fur. Her mind blanked out as she closed her eyes, and for a while she just lay there, breathing. _In, out_. The silence was pleasant.

She was close to falling asleep when Len returned with her pitcher. He quietly closed the door behind him, placing the pitcher on her desk. She watched him, her eyes just barely open – maybe he couldn’t tell she was awake. He closed her blinds, throwing her room into darkness, and then drew out her chair and sat on it, using his phone.

It was strangely relaxing, watching him. Len was always calm and kind and serene, an oasis in the storm that was university life. Every once in a while, he’d smile at his screen and she wondered what he was looking at, what could make his lips curve up so gently, so gracefully – she wondered if he was on Finder perhaps, talking to girls, meeting new people. Weren’t most people on that app nowadays?

The thought of Len possibly being on Finder left a bitter taste in her mouth. Not that she had any reason to mind. But it was enough to make her sit up, still clutching her bear to her chest. “Len?” she said, her voice drowsy. He looked up at her.

“Oh, Miku. You’re awake.” He tapped on his phone, then flipped it around to show her his screen. “I was watching this cat video, and I think you might like it.”

“Cat video?” She blinked as she saw two kittens with the roundest blue eyes tumbling over each other, their little pink mouths wide open. “Oh! They’re so cute!”

“They really are,” he agreed, and she thought he was cute too when he stared at the screen like this, his expression soft. “Do you think I could keep a cat in my room?”

“No, you’d probably get caught by the resident advisor.” She flattened her palm against her forehead. “But it would be nice if we were allowed to have pets.”

“It would be.” He paused, running his thumb along the edge of his phone. “Rin and I used to own a cat. But we gave it up for adoption when our parents separated. Sometimes I wonder how it’s doing. It would be so old now if it was still alive.”

Miku frowned. “Rin never told me that.”

Len shrugged, looking unsurprised. “She likes dogs better. But our parents refused to get one since dogs are more work. You know, daily walks, obedience training…”

“I guess they’re not wrong.” She paused, studying him – he had gone back to watching the kittens, and she realised just how little she actually _knew_ about him. Sure, she had an intimate knowledge of his body, of how he best liked to be touched, of the way his eyes burned in the darkness, searing hot. But outside the bedroom?

She knew so little. Everything in her head was second-hand knowledge; they might as well be strangers. “Len.” He met her gaze, and she swallowed. “Tell me more about yourself. Your likes, your dislikes, your interests. Everything. I want to know.”

For a moment he looked startled, but his expression quickly softened into a smile, so beautiful that she had to glance away for a second. “All right. And I’d like to know more about you too. How about we just ask each other whatever pops to mind?”

“Okay.” She idly stroked the head of her bear, thinking over her first question. “Why did you suddenly transfer to our university? Why didn’t you come sooner?”

“Ah.” He exhaled. “My mother needed convincing. She’s always been protective, and even after I turned eighteen she still wanted to keep me close.” Something about his demeanour seemed to change, though his expression remained neutral. “She was afraid that I wouldn’t go back home. That I’d just stay with my father after graduation and leave her all alone.” He was tapping his fingers against his knee.

She wondered if he felt suffocated, living with his mother. His voice betrayed no hint of emotion, but she had long realised that Len was a very still, _calm_ sort of person, and for him to be fidgeting so much probably meant that he was uncomfortable.

“Sorry if this is sensitive, you don’t have to answer if it is. But is there any reason you and Rin were split up this way? Like, her with your dad and you with your mum,” she clarified when he raised his head, blinking at her.

She did ask Rin this question before, but she simply shrugged and said “ _it is what it is_ ”. Miku figured that Len might have a more detailed response.

“Oh, it’s not a sensitive question. Not anymore, at least.” His lips tilted up, a shadow of a smile. “My father liked Rin better, and my mother liked me. It is what it is.”

“You know, Rin said the same thing. It is what it is.” He chuckled, resting his fingers on his knee, and she couldn’t help but stare at them. Slender, pretty fingers, the elegant hands of a pianist. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be a twin.”

“It’s not as fun as people make it out to be.” His expression turned wistful. “Not that Rin can read my mind or anything, but sometimes she just _knows_ when I’m unhappy. Or when I’m hiding something from her. And she’ll keep asking me what’s wrong.”

“Yeah, Rin isn’t the kind to let go when she’s worried about someone.” Much less her twin brother who she hadn’t seen in years. “Was she always like this, growing up?”

“Mm-hm. She hasn’t changed that much all these years, I suppose. Though she was shyer as a kid.” He laughed at the look on her face. “I’m serious. When we were young, like four or five years old, she was much less outgoing than she is now.”

“What happened to her?” It was kind of peaceful, sitting here and listening to him talk. The sound of his voice washed over her, almost like a lullaby, and she rested her chin on her knees, wrapping her arms around herself.

“She discovered her love for sports.” His lips curved up, this time a genuine smile. “I remember our parents decided to let her try kids’ soccer because she was always kicking stuff around at home, and I swear she changed overnight.”

“So she’s been into sports since young. That’s nice to know.” It wasn’t something she and Rin had talked about before. She never had to contemplate her best friend’s hobbies – Rin simply liked sports, that’s all there was to it.

“Yeah, and believe me, the number of times she tried to drag me to soccer practice…” Len sighed, and Miku laughed despite the dull throb in her head. She could listen to him all day, even with the nasty hangover she was going through right now.

“But don’t you work out? I mean, you sure look like you do.” She had seen him naked enough times to guess that he did put _some_ effort into maintaining his physique.

“I’m okay with exercise. I’m just not a team player like Rin is.” Len sounded amused, and she suddenly found it difficult to meet his gaze. “It’s important to pair a healthy mind with a healthy body. Rin drilled that into my head a long, long time ago.”

Why were all her friends so hung up over exercise? “Yeah, that does sound like a Rin thing to say.” In fact, Rin would pull out this exact liner whenever she wanted Miku to attend a marathon or some other sports event with her.

It had been years since Rin first tried to persuade her. Miku had yet to say yes. “She told me other things too. Some of them were quite colourful,” Len muttered. Then he glanced up at her, appraising. “What was your childhood like?”

She thought about how to answer him. It was such a vague question; she wasn’t even sure where to begin. “Hm. My childhood. It was pretty normal? There’s not much to talk about.” She hesitated. “I was bullied a little though. As a kid.”

“Oh.” He bit his lip. “We don’t have to bring that up if you don’t want to remember.”

“Nah, I’m past that by now.” She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I was always kind of awkward. And when I was young I hadn’t grown into my frame yet, so I was skinny and tall for my age and a little…buggy-looking.” She winced at the memory.

“Buggy-looking?” He seemed confused, and she pointed at herself.

“Big eyes, small face, scrawny. Kids used to compare me to a praying mantis.” His face fell, and she hurried to reassure him. “You don’t need to feel bad for me. After a while, I learnt how to tune them out and talk back to the more annoying bullies. Going through all that helped me toughen up too, I guess. Makes you see how stupid rumours are.”

“It must have been awful.” His voice was quiet. “I’m sorry you had to experience that.”

She shrugged. “I’ve moved on.” Her bear was squeezed between her stomach and her thighs, and she ran her fingers through its fur. “Were you ever bullied?”

“Not really. No one dared to mess with me in elementary school. Not that I was scary or anything, but I had my sister and the company I kept and well, the other kids knew to stay away.” His smile was wry. “After that I hit puberty and I started receiving attention from girls. It got a little annoying, but I learnt to live with it.”

“If you looked the way you do now in middle school, I can understand why they were all going after you,” she mumbled, and he laughed, relaxing into her chair. “Puberty sure hit you like a truck, huh?”

“Mm-hm. I used to have lots of baby fat. Made me look so pudgy.” He grimaced. “But I wonder sometimes. How many people would be interested in me now if I didn’t look the way I did?” Suddenly, it felt like his stare was burning a hole right through her.

She wasn’t sure what kind of answer he wanted. “Probably not that many? People can be pretty superficial, after all.” Even her interest in him stemmed from his looks. Not that she was going to admit that. “Question – if you were annoyed by all the attention you were receiving, then how did you end up with your girlfriends?”

“Oh, they were persistent.” He crossed his legs, contemplative. “That’s the one thing they all had in common. I suppose I’m not the kind of person who can keep rejecting people. Rin used to call me a pushover.” He sighed. “But it’s not that I didn’t have feelings for them. It’s just – I guess I never knew what it was like to fall for someone first. At least not until now.”

“Your crush?” she guessed, and he nodded, his gaze flicking momentarily away from her. She felt a little ache in her chest, still wondering who it might be. “I think falling in love is a scary thing. You never know what to expect out of it.”

“Maybe that’s what makes it so exciting,” he murmured. “All the unknowns. And the possibility of pain and heartbreak. Everyone is a masochist to some extent.” His gaze shifted. “I’m happy to see that you like the bear so much.”

“Oh?” She glanced down, her fingers still entwined through fluffy white fur. “Yeah! It’s so cuddly. Thanks.” She smiled and it made her head pound but it was worth it to see his eyes soften, watch the gentle curve of his lips as he smiled back at her.

It occurred to her just how strange it was for them to be in an enclosed space without pouncing on each other. She couldn’t even remember the last time that happened. When they were in a room and there was a bed, clothes came off – it was automatic by this point. But it was kind of… _nice_ , just talking to Len like this.

“Do you want to sit here?” she offered, patting her mattress. It would probably make a softer seat than her chair. Len blinked, and she felt her face heat up as he stared at her. “I’m not saying we should do anything! Just…you know. Come closer.”

“Ah.” He hesitated. “Okay. Sure.” He got up from the chair, cautiously approaching her, and she wriggled aside to make space. The mattress sank when he sat, and he held himself so gingerly that she wondered if he was even comfortable.

“Relax. I’m not going to eat you.” She didn’t think she could even get up right now. He still looked worried, and she exhaled, reaching out to touch his arm. “Or if you’d prefer to keep some distance between us, then –”

“It’s fine.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, and she noticed his fingers drumming restlessly against her blanket. “Okay. I have a question for you. Remember you told me about your ex in middle school? How you broke up after…was it a week?”

She nodded, a little embarrassed about him bringing that up. It wasn’t her proudest memory. “I’m curious about that. Why did you agree to go out with him?”

“Um, I kind of just wanted a boyfriend at the time. All my friends were dating, and it was lonely doing stuff on my own, so…when he confessed, I went along with it.” She rubbed her temple. “I was curious, right? Huge mistake. He was so clingy.”

He laughed. “That does tend to happen when you don’t feel the same way about the other person. They can sense your lack of interest, you know. And they get scared.”

She huffed. “I know now. But back then I was just like, _ugh_. Are all relationships like this? I couldn’t understand why my friends were okay with that. It felt so horrid.”

“I hope you let him down easy,” he said, and she wondered if she was imagining the teasing lilt in his voice. “Puppy love can be surprisingly cruel.”

“Well, I did the best I could, given my knowledge and circumstances.” She sniffed. “I even bought him ice cream afterwards. That seemed to cheer him up a little.”

“Is that why you chose to break up with him at an ice cream parlour?” She definitely wasn’t imagining the humour in his words now.

“Kind of. I knew he liked ice cream a lot, and I figured if I bribed him with it then he wouldn’t try to change my mind or anything. I wanted a quick, clean break, you know?” She sighed. “He was a nice guy. I just didn’t feel anything for him. Though I eventually got my payback for stringing him along.”

“Your payback?” She stiffened – she hadn’t meant to say that. The words just slipped out so naturally. And he looked so much like _Rin_ , who knew almost everything there was to know about her. It was too easy to blurt out things she’d rather keep secret.

“No, it’s nothing.” He frowned, but before he could say anything she leant in, pressing a finger against his lips. “Don’t think about it.”

“Miku…” She cut him off, her hands reaching out to cup his face. His eyes widened as she turned him towards her, their mouths meeting – his hands finally slid up her waist, and she wrapped herself around him, hoping he’d forget about her mistake.


	14. Chapter 14

“Are you free later? For an hour? Probably less,” Gumo suddenly said, scrunching up a paper ball and tossing it at the wastepaper basket.

“Yeah, once I finish this.” Miku tapped her pen against her notebook, semi-distracted. She was curled up on a beanbag in the study room, looking through her notes. There were so many dates to memorise for this class, and it was _painful_.

“Okay. I was wondering if you’d be able to model for me.” His words took a while to register, but when they did she stiffened, her pen falling from her fingers. Gumo was scribbling on a piece of scrap paper. “Huh. That got your attention.”

“You…you want me to model for you? Today?” she squeaked, looking down at herself. She was dressed in a ratty tank top and an old pair of sweatpants, her hair whipped into a sloppy bun. This was far from her best look, and Gumo knew that.

“Why not? I need to practice. At this rate, I’ll forget how to draw realistically.” He shot her a wicked grin. “Why? Want to change your outfit? Put on some makeup?”

“Shut up!” She picked up her pen and threw it at him, and he ducked, slapping the pen away from his face. “Okay, wait. Hand that back. I need it.”

“You’re pretty demanding for someone who attacked me first.” But he tossed the pen to her anyway, and she caught it with a murmur of thanks. “So, you can help me out later? It’s no biggie – I’ll be sketching while you do stuff, so you won’t have to pose.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “That’s…okay, I guess. You won’t make me do anything weird?”

“I don’t know what you define as weird, but probably not.” He chuckled. “Scared I’ll make you look bad?”

He was teasing her now, and she pouted, circling a date in her notes. She had no idea what happened in that year but at least it made her look busy. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Sweetheart, if I cared about the way you looked I wouldn’t even have agreed to study with you today.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he held out his hands. “I mean, not to say that you’re hideous or anything. You’re stunning, Miku. As usual.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she warned, now underlining the circled date. His eyes crinkled with mirth, and she was momentarily distracted by just how _attractive_ he was – god, how had she not noticed before?

Probably through sheer force of will. She’d been told a million times that crushing on a friend was never a good idea, and she could understand why. “But it’s not flattery if you believe it!” he sang, and she rolled her eyes, turning her head away from him.

“How are you so free? Don’t you have any assignments to turn in?” She twirled her pen around her fingers, trying to focus. Of course, she _could_ put off her revision to another day but she just wanted to get this over and done with.

She’d finally worked up the courage to ask Len for study tips and the first thing he told her was that she should look through her notes every day. Just a little each time, he said, but make it consistent. And eventually, she’d remember everything like the back of her hand and it’d be easier to study for her finals.

This was the second week she was attempting to follow his advice. And while the very first time she tried this hadn’t been too bad, she was now bored with her routine. It made her wonder whether looking through just one or two pages of notes each day truly did have any effect – but then again, Len was on the Dean’s List and he never failed to do well on his tests. She should listen to him if she wanted to score, right?

“Hm, already done with them,” he answered, sinking into his chair, his head hanging over the back. “I have a quiz coming up next week but it should be fine.”

“A quiz?” It was rare for Gumo to be tested on anything. Most of his classes were project-based, after all.

“Uh-huh. Oh, it’s one of those compulsory holistic classes. Pop Culture in Biology.” He made a face. “It sounds fun, right? Until you realise the professor reads off his slides…ugh. Luckily it’s a multiple choice quiz. I hate science stuff.”

She gave him a sympathetic look. “What kind of pop culture things do you learn?”

He snorted. “That all those crime forensic shows we watch are unrealistic. But I didn’t need a university class to tell me that.” He paused, tapping his finger against his chin. “I’m sure we were taught more but frankly, I can’t remember anything right now.”

“Sounds fun? I mean, if you ignore the reading off the slides part.” He frowned at her, his head still hanging over the back of the chair, his bangs falling away from his face. “What? You get to watch shows and stuff. Isn’t that a good thing?”

He pouted. “Yeah, but you know I’m not a fan of sci-fi, and that’s most of the movies we end up watching. I fell asleep a few times.” He finally sat upright, turning around to straddle the chair, his arms draped across the back. “How did you clear the science requirement? What class did you take?”

“Oh, last year there was a class about perfume-making. It counted as a science mod but it was pretty fun! Not that I remember anything from it.”

“Damn. Now _that_ sounds like something I might enjoy.” He sighed, walking his fingers across his forearm. “You should have taken this class instead. You’d have more fun with the movies, I’m sure. I mean, is there any genre of film you _don’t_ enjoy?”

“I don’t like romcoms.” She stared at her notebook and noticed a blank margin – did she forget to fill in a date, perhaps? Gumo made a sound of surprise. “You’ve never seen me suggest a romcom on movie nights, right? They’re not my thing.”

“Romcoms are cute though. Don’t they make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?” He shifted his chair closer, and she stilled, much too aware of his sudden proximity. “It’s the kind of thing you watch with your partner. Mostly to laugh at how stupid the plot is. I don’t know about you, but I’ve always liked making fun of the actors…”

“Okay, that can be entertaining. But.” She hesitated. “Romcoms remind me of things I don’t want to think about. There are far more interesting shows to watch anyway.”

She half-expected him to ask what those _things_ were, and he did give her a curious look, but when he opened his mouth he changed the topic and she exhaled, grateful that he didn’t question her. “Want to grab lunch?”

“Sure.” She could use a break. Clambering up from her beanbag, she tossed her pen and notebook on the table, fishing for her wallet in her bag. She briefly thought about bringing her bag along but decided that if someone wanted to steal her scrap paper then they were welcome to it. Gumo shoved his hands in his pockets, whistling as he led the way out, and she walked behind him, staring at the back of his head.

“Gumo, what have you been doing for the past two hours? I’m curious,” she said, and he glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes bright with amusement.

“Hm, working on a little project, I guess.” He held up his hands, smudged with streaks of grey. “Charcoal is a mess to use, but the results are always so satisfying.”

“Should you be putting your hands in your pockets? You’re going to leave marks all over your clothes,” she pointed out, and he chuckled, reaching out to wipe his thumb over her cheek – she yelped, jumping back as she indignantly patted her face.

“Nice to know that you’re so concerned about my cleanliness.” He raised an eyebrow. “This is a super old pair of sweats, so I’m not fussed about how dirty they get.”

“Still…” She exhaled. “Why didn’t you just draw me while I was studying?”

“Nah, that’s boring. I wanted to do some dynamic sketches, but you spent the entire time huddled in your beanbag and you barely moved an inch. I figured I’d have better luck asking for your help later. Hopefully when you’re a little less stressed.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say, so she just stared at the floor, thinking over his words. She wasn’t stressed. Probably. But maybe she _looked_ like she was?

His fingers touched her chin, tilting her face up, and she looked straight into his eyes, her breath catching. “You’ve been spacing out a lot lately. More so than usual,” he commented, and though his tone was neutral she could sense his concern, feel it in the way he studied her, how he touched her more gently than he normally would.

“I’m not stressed. I think.” She didn’t move away from him, too caught up in his gaze – Gumo reminded her of balmy summer days and peaceful afternoons by the lake, and it was so _comfortable_. “I just have a few things on my mind.”

“Am I one of them?” He laughed, and she wondered if it would be appropriate to tell him that yes, indeed, he was. “Kidding. But is there anything I can help you with?”

She shook her head. “Thanks for the offer though. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” He cocked his head, studying her. “You know that I’d drop everything else I’m doing for you so long as you said the word, right?”

“What?” She was almost definitely blushing. How could he go around saying stuff like that with such a straight face? “You’re never that helpful when we ask you to design stuff for the dorm. Don’t try to trick me with your pretty words.”

He scoffed. “Please. I’m always helpful when _you_ come to me. The gorilla girl, on the other hand…she doesn’t even knock! You know the number of times she barged into my room after almost destroying my door? She’s unbelievable.”

“You know Rin. She’s just a little, um, enthusiastic sometimes.” Which was a massive understatement. Gumo narrowed his eyes at her, his fingers still holding up her chin.

“I don’t want to think about whether Rin’s penchant for destruction can be attributed to enthusiasm or sheer malice. It’s probably the latter, but that’s not important right now.” His thumb brushed her cheek, gentle. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you, that’s all. And you can always come to me if you need help.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, taken aback by how _serious_ he sounded – he was rarely this intense, after all. Gumo cracked a grin, then bopped her on the nose and took a step back, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“By the way, you might want to wash your face before you head to the cafeteria,” he said, wriggling his hands, and too late she remembered the charcoal streaks on his fingers. She whipped out her phone to check her reflection, then shot him a glare.

“Hilarious, Gumo. I’m laughing.” But he _was_ laughing and she couldn’t help but soften, averting her face to hide a smile. Maybe she could forgive him this once.

* * *

Like what Gumo promised, he didn’t request anything fancy. It was just them in the courtyard, him sitting underneath a tree with his sketchbook, and her traipsing awkwardly through the community garden.

“Just act natural,” he called, and she glared at him, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “You know, be yourself! Don’t worry about me!”

“If I was being myself I wouldn’t even _be_ in the garden!” she shouted, and she could see him laughing from here, his hand flying across the page. She huffed, pushing her bangs out of her eyes – it was so bright today. She hadn’t realised how warm it was outside, and god, she wished she could just crawl back into the study room right now.

Be herself, huh? Miku wasn’t a very outdoorsy person, but if she _did_ decide to leave her room and wander to the garden, then what would she do? She studied the plants the Horticulture Club had cultivated, crouching to look at the young leaves shooting up from the soil. She wondered what plants these were. There weren’t any signs.

Maybe she _should_ start eating more vegetables. She wasn’t too fond of them because they usually tasted so bland to her, but things might be different if she grew her own veggies. She had some space on her windowsill, it’d be just nice for a pot or two.

She rose, walking further into the garden. Most of the plants were still growing – the club members had only sowed seeds a few weeks ago. She glanced at the colourful pebbles that lined the winding path and wondered which club member had put them in position. So much effort for a tiny garden most people wouldn’t even come to.

“Is there something specific you want me to do?” she called, hoping to get Gumo’s attention. He was already looking at her, and he cocked his head, considering.

“It’d be nice if you can interact with the plants a bit more! But it’s fine either way.” He gave her a thumbs-up and she sighed, kicking a tuft of grass.

“I hate the outdoors,” she muttered, and though she was aware that Gumo couldn’t hear her, his lips curved up like he knew exactly what she was saying. Maybe he did. She wasn’t very difficult to read, after all. And he was frighteningly observant.

She lost track of the number of times he would casually say something that made her stop and stare at him, taken aback by just how _perceptive_ he was. He knew her food preferences almost better than she did, and whenever schoolwork was getting to her, he’d show up outside her door with scrambled eggs and a cup of hot chocolate.

He treated her so well. She felt her heart clench at the thought. This situation made her think about her ex and how she once took him for granted – she didn’t want the same thing to happen here. But how was she supposed to make a decision?

“Oi, Miku. You okay?” She jumped at the sound of his voice, much closer than it was before. Gumo was standing outside the community garden, staring at her with an eyebrow raised. “I know you’re a pro at spacing out, but this is a bit too much.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking about stuff.” She exhaled, turning around to face him. “It’s stupidly warm today. I don’t even want to know what summer will be like.”

He made a face. “Uncomfortable, probably. The past few years have been weirdly hot.” His gaze was sympathetic. “Do you need a break? We can go back inside if you want.”

“Nah, I’m good. It’d be silly to take a break, it’s not like I’m doing anything.” Besides thinking. It would be great if her brain could shut up for once. “Can I see?” she asked, pointing at his sketchbook.

He hesitated. Even after he admitted that he liked to draw her, he was still strangely reluctant to show her his sketches. “When we’re done, maybe. Or if you want…”

“If you don’t want to show me now, it’s fine.” She shrugged. “It’s your work, after all. I know how it feels to let people see stuff you haven’t completed yet.”

Gumo exhaled, his eyes twinkling. “You’re so understanding, sweetheart. What great things did I do in my past life to be blessed with an angel like you?”

She rolled her eyes. “That was awful. You need to brush up on your pickup lines.”

“I’ll have you know that it worked on every other girl I said it to.” He pouted.

“Maybe their standards are lower,” she said, and he laughed, a warm, inviting sound that made her toes curl. She kicked another tuft of grass, trying to distract herself from that familiar feeling. “You know what? I kind of want to take my shoes off.”

He blinked. “Oh? I wouldn’t expect that from someone who hates the great outdoors.”

“I like the way grass feels beneath my feet. I used to walk barefoot on our lawn all the time back home. It helps me come up with ideas.” She stepped out of her flats and reached down to remove her socks, carefully placing her feet on the stone path.

It was pleasantly warm, and she wriggled her toes, feeling strangely relieved. “Didn’t you ever do this as a kid?” she asked, noticing the look on Gumo’s face.

“Not out of choice.” He grinned, reaching over to ruffle her hair, and instinctively she batted his hand away. “Be careful, if not you’ll end up hurting your feet.”

“Yeah, I will.” She paused. “I was wondering. Don’t you already have models when you go for your life drawing class? The art department is always recruiting.”

“Yeah, we do.” He took a step away, his hand flying back to his sketchbook. His eyes were intense, and honestly, they made her feel a little exposed. “But drawing them is no fun. They’re too, mm, professional? And that’s not how I like to do things.”

“But you _are_ a professional,” she pointed out, confused.

“Correction. I enjoy spontaneity,” he mumbled, his gaze flicking between her face and his drawing. “An amateur model is far more entertaining than someone used to the studio. They force you to think fast. Get more done within a shorter timeframe.”

“Isn’t it challenging to draw someone when they won’t stay still, though?” she asked, taking a step forward. “Why would you make life difficult for yourself?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He grinned, slipping his pencil between his teeth as he flipped the sketchbook. He looked cute like this, and she glanced away, not wanting to stare. “I hate doing the same thing over and over. It gets so boring.”

“Never knew you were the type to challenge yourself,” she said, staring at the plants growing next to the path. She wondered if they would flower eventually.

She felt a hand close around her wrist, and she looked back, meeting his gaze. Gumo was watching her, his pencil tucked behind his ear. “I challenge myself all the time, Miku. That’s why I fell for you, right?”

He winked, but there was still something uncharacteristically serious about the way he was looking at her – she fidgeted, unsure how to respond to his comment. It was so straightforward, and there didn’t seem to be any way to brush it off as a joke. “Am I that difficult to deal with?” she finally asked, the safest thing she could say.

His lips quirked up. “Man, trying to get anything out of you is like petting a spooked cat. I have to keep telling myself that coming on too strong would freak you out.” He raised an eyebrow at the frown on her face. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” she admitted. “But you’re so good at noticing things, and it scares me a little.” His thumb traced slow circles over her wrist. “I don’t know how you’re so patient.”

“Oh, I’m not as patient as you think I am.” He chuckled, green eyes shifting away from her. “But good people are worth waiting for. As long as you’re not dating, I still have a chance, right? Pretty sure you’ll be able to make up your mind someday.”

“You have too much faith in me,” she answered, and he shrugged, letting go of her. She immediately missed his proximity, but at least he didn’t step away, still standing beside the hedge that separated them. “I’m no good with decisions.”

“Not many people are.” He shook his head. “Maybe that’s why Rin is your best friend? She’s great at making snap decisions. Sometimes too great,” he muttered.

She wrinkled her nose. “Do you have some kind of personal vendetta against her? I mean, you’re always at each other’s throats. I used to think it was a joke, but…”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t see it, but she can be such a pain in the ass. All I want is alone time with you but she always gets in the way. Does she think I’m a pervert or something?” he demanded, and his expression made her giggle.

“No, she’s just protective. And I appreciate it.” She pressed her foot into the soil, her toes wriggling in the grass. “She’s been my friend for a long time. And she knows a lot about…why I’m the way I am.” The last part was spoken in a whisper.

“I see.” He could probably tell she was uncomfortable since he instantly changed the subject. “Do you remember telling Luka that you wanted to help out in her kitchen?”

She blinked. “Yeah, I guess.” Though she had yet to visit TAKO. It was embarrassing to think about showing her face there, given how drunk she had been the last time they were at Luka’s restaurant. “Why are you suddenly bringing that up?”

“Because Luka texted me to ask if you still wanted to help. She said she needs a new server and she was wondering if you were interested.” He shrugged again. “I remember you complaining about how hard it is to find a part-time job, so if you’re keen…”

“Oh! That would be great!” She had worked at a food stall before, and she figured it shouldn't be _too_ different from waitressing. “When does she need me to start?”

“Hm, next week I think. One of her servers is moving away, and there’s going to be a private party next weekend so she needs all the help she can get.” He grinned. “But she wants to talk to you first. Said she wanted to go through the job description.”

“Won’t I just be a server? It’s a pretty standard role, isn’t it?” She looked at the blue sky overhead – it was a cloudless day, and the sun beat down relentlessly upon them, the kind of warmth that made her burn. There was barely any wind.

It was a surprisingly hot day for spring. “Yeah, but she remembers what you told her. About wanting to cook well,” he answered. “So she thought she could show you some ropes. Let you play around in the kitchen a bit. You’d be an intern of sorts, I guess.”

Miku wondered if she was dreaming. She had to pinch herself to check. “Her intern?” God, some people would do _anything_ to study under a chef of Luka’s status. She had done nothing to deserve this. “Um. I would love – I can do that? Be…her intern?”

“Why not?” Gumo cocked his head. “I’ve been your guinea pig enough times to know that you _can_ cook. You might not be the best, but you’re pretty decent! I’ll vouch for you if she wants references,” he declared, his voice filled with confidence.

When he smiled at her that way, he was dazzling. She swallowed. “I appreciate that. But um. Let me think about it. When does she need an answer by?”

“Eh, I don’t know. By tomorrow?” He slid his pencil off his ear, tapping the tip against his chin. “You want her number? Then you can let her know when you’re ready.”

“Is it okay for you to just give out her number –” But he was already tapping on his phone, and she pressed her lips together, waiting for the inevitable contact to come. Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at her screen. A new message from Gumo.

“There you go. It’s a great opportunity, you know. I’d take it up if I were you,” he said, at the same time holding up his sketchbook so that he could continue to sketch her. She didn’t want to imagine what kind of expression she was wearing right now.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks.” What else could she say? She felt almost coerced into taking up the job…okay, maybe coercion was too strong a word. She opened Luka’s contact, staring at the little numbers on her screen.

“How many celebrity numbers do you have tucked away in your phone?” she muttered, and he glanced up, his hand pausing over the page.

“You want to know?” he asked. She stared at him, startled – she hadn’t meant that as a legitimate question. “I’ll tell you for a kiss.” His smirk was charmingly wicked.

“Fine,” she whispered, and before she could change her mind she leant over the hedge, seizing the collar of his shirt. She pulled him down and their lips met, a fleeting kiss, but when she pulled back her whole face felt tingly. His green eyes were wide.

“I-I was kidding,” he stammered, and she could see a tinge of pink in his cheeks. “Um. Wow. I didn’t expect – ahem.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I know a few popular artists and a singer or two, but I’m not sure if they’d count as _celebrities_ …”

“Wow. So you tricked me,” she deadpanned, and he cracked a grin, flicking his bangs out of his eyes. “If you wanted a kiss that badly, you could’ve just asked.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you would give me one? I have my doubts.”

She averted her gaze, heat rushing up to her face. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She peeked at him and saw that he had gone still, his gaze fixed upon her.

“That’s not something you can joke around about, you know.” His voice was teasing, but he looked so serious that she wasn't sure how to respond.

“I’m not joking.” She stared down at the path, suddenly finding the stone surface to be particularly interesting. “You just have to ask. And I’ll _think_ about it.”

His fingers touched her chin and he forced her to look up, meeting his gaze – he leant in, slow, tentative, and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let her eyes close, and his lips were so _soft_ , so warm; she sighed into the kiss, her fingers curled into fists by her sides.

Gumo was the first to withdraw, an inquisitive light in his pretty eyes. She took a shaky breath, still able to feel the imprint of his mouth against hers. “You didn’t ask,” she pointed out, though her voice was feeble.

“Oh, I apologise for the transgression.” He grinned, his fingers reaching up to stroke her cheek. “I’ll be sure to submit a formal written request in the future.”

She giggled, unable to help herself. “That’s stupid.”

He made a face. “I don’t want to hear that coming from you.” Then his expression softened. “You know, you’re so cute sometimes. Makes me want to keep you all to myself, Len be damned.” His breath grazed her ear, his voice low and sensuous – a shiver ran down her back, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “Is it so bad to be greedy?”

A side of him she’d never seen before. His closeness was dizzying. “Greed is one of the seven deadly sins," she protested. "It's not a good thing." There was no conviction in her words.

“I think I’d willingly risk my soul for a chance with you.” He looked her in the eye, and she couldn’t quite read the look on his face. “Well, see you later, I guess. I’m almost done with my sketches and I’m sure you’re busy, so I won’t keep you.”

He released her, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. He waved carelessly as he walked away from the community garden, and she slowly put her socks back on, wondering what that whole exchange meant.


	15. Chapter 15

She gasped, her eyelids fluttering as she bowed her head – Len was right behind her with her hair wrapped around his fist, his other hand between her thighs, and it was taking everything she had to hold herself upright.

Miku wasn’t entirely sure what happened. All she recalled was knocking on his door, frustrated by her complete inability to remember anything for longer than three hours – when Len invited her into his room, his blue eyes filled with curiosity, she pounced on him, her fingers yanking on his collar so that she could press her lips to his.

He didn’t respond immediately, probably startled by how abrupt she was, but after a moment he kicked the door shut and wound his fingers through her hair, his mouth hot and searching – she let herself drown in his kiss, his touch sweeping away all the irritation and concerns she had, and now here they were.

Most days, they were frantic, almost sloppy; his every action filled with desperation while part of her mind was awed by just how _much_ he wanted her. But today was not one of those days. Today, Len was in control – he was slow and languid, almost lazy, and she braced herself against his desk, her head pressed against her forearms. “Len.”

His name left her mouth, little more than a whimper, and he leant in, his lips ghosting across her shoulder. “Yes, Miku? What do you want?”

A thrill ran down her back at the sound of his voice, low and sensuous. She wanted him to say her name like that again, soft and husky, filled with desire. “I’m so _close_ ,” she hissed, and his fingers paused, drawing yet another whimper out of her. “Please.”

“Hm.” Another kiss, this time against her bare neck, and she shuddered, sensitive to his touch. His lips lingered on her skin. “You’re surprisingly impatient today.”

“And you’re being a tease.” He nuzzled into her neck, dropping butterfly kisses down her throat to her shoulder. “I didn’t come here wanting to get more frustrated.”

“Is that so?” His fingers moved in delicate strokes, once, twice, and she moaned, her entire body jerking into his palm. “Could have fooled me.”

“You know, when it comes to sex, you’re a terrible person.” It had been on her mind for a while – ever since he told her about his past, their little escapades had changed. Gone was the gentle Len who asked her at every step how she was feeling, whether she wanted him to stop, whether she had changed her mind.

Instead, he was deliberate and calculative, every action designed to make her plead, and truthfully speaking she enjoyed it. She didn’t admit it out loud, not wanting him to think she was _depraved_ or anything for enjoying this, but when his hips snapped forward, she was unable to hold back another moan, her legs trembling.

“I thought you liked it.” There was the faintest hint of apprehension in his words now, and she glanced at him, studying his face – he was watching her, his eyes narrowed, and she saw a solitary drop of sweat rolling down his forehead onto his cheek.

“I’m not answering that,” she said, and he smiled, tugging at her hair – her head tilted back, and she shut her eyes, holding her breath as she waited for him to move again. His fingers quickened, slick with her wetness, and that familiar tension was building within her belly. She exhaled through her nose, biting her lip in anticipation.

But then, right before she was pushed over the edge to completion, he stopped, and she whined, frustration tearing through her as she teetered on the precipice. “Len!” she couldn’t help but snap, turning her head back to glare at him.

There was an emotion she couldn’t read in those blue eyes. “Sorry, sorry.” He smiled, and maybe if she hadn’t been feeling so pent-up and needy, she would have forgiven him on the spot for that smile alone. “I was just thinking about something.”

“What?” Her tone was still clipped, but she was curious now, her body slowly relaxing into his hand. “Can’t you think about it after this?”

“I’d like to, but it’s stuck in my head.” He gently circled her clit with his thumb, almost an apology, and she felt a little whimper get caught in the back of her throat. “Maybe if you answered my question, I would stop being so distracted.”

“What is it?” she gritted out, unconsciously rocking herself back against his hips.

“Are you and Gumo dating?” He sounded so matter of fact that for a moment, his question didn’t quite register; then his words sank into her head and she stilled, her mouth falling open in surprise. She glanced at him again, wondering if he was joking, but he was staring back at her, and she saw no hint of amusement on his face.

She didn’t know how to respond. Honestly, she and Gumo were…pretty complicated, and she could only blame herself for that. Neither yes nor no sounded like the right answer, but she knew she couldn’t just stay quiet. Len was waiting.

“We…we aren’t.” Her voice broke, and she hurried to clarify. “I don’t know where you heard that from, but it’s probably because of what happened during winter break. We were playing a stupid game and I didn’t want people to pry too much, so…”

She knew she was rambling now, and she cut herself off, not wanting to say anything else in case she ended up shooting herself in the foot. He shifted his hand, placing it on the small of her back, and she clenched her fists, hoping he would _move_. Her body was desperate for friction, and she was drawn so taut that she couldn’t breathe –

His fingers sank into her skin and he began to push inside her, his strokes long and slow, and she threw her head back, gasping. “More?” he murmured, and she nodded frantically, not caring about how she might look – he let go of her hair, his free hand sliding down to her breasts, and when he flicked her nipple, she bit back a moan.

Len was slow but methodical, and it didn’t take long before the tension was climbing back up; when her thighs tensed, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth wooden surface of his desk, he dropped his hand back to between her legs. Seconds later she found the release she’d been so eagerly seeking, and she hissed his name when she came, her eyes closing in bliss.

He didn’t stop. Instead, he sped up, pushing her through her orgasm as he chased his own, and when he spilt inside her it was with a quiet groan, his fingers wrapped around her waist. She leant her cheek on the desk, the wood cool against her skin, and tried her best to recover. They stayed like this for a while, just breathing.

When he pulled out of her, she felt something warm trickle down her thighs and she squirmed, not wanting to make a mess on the floor. She heard footsteps, then there was the sensation of soft terry against her skin and she murmured her thanks as Len wiped her clean. “No problem,” he said, tossing the towel on the desk.

“Why that sudden question, though?” she asked, finally calm enough to straighten up and pull her panties back on – they were gathered around her ankles, a conspicuous wet spot on the crotch, and she grimaced at how gooey it felt.

“Just curious.” Len had tucked himself back into his pants, and besides the faint hint of pink in his cheeks and the sheen of sweat on his forehead, there was nothing else to hint at what they had done – even his hair was perfect, tied in his usual ponytail. “As you mentioned I heard a rumour, and…I thought maybe I should just ask you.”

“Oh.” She reached behind her, fiddling with her bra clasp. “Took you a while to ask, didn’t it? It’s been a few months since winter break.”

He smiled, his eyes soft, and her stomach flipped – she wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms and bury her face in his chest, inhaling his scent, but she didn’t act on her impulse, trying to hook her bra back together instead. “I was a little scared.”

“Of?” The clasp finally caught, and she smoothed down her shirt, trying to button it. Her fingers were trembling. “I wouldn’t have been offended or anything.”

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet. She continued to work her way up the buttons, trying her best not to look at him. “But I didn’t want to know the answer.”

“Then what changed?” She was horribly nervous, but she hoped he couldn’t hear it in her voice. The floor suddenly looked like the most fascinating thing in the world.

“We spend a lot of time together. And I was starting to feel…” He hesitated. “I started wondering about the rumours. It doesn’t make sense that you would visit me like this, not if you two _were_ dating.”

She couldn’t help but feel like she was being judged, somehow. “Wait. Do you think I’m the type to sleep around even when I’m in a committed relationship?” she asked, indignant. “Because I thought you knew me a lot better than that.”

Len seemed to realise he had crossed a line. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that you two are close and he called you sweetheart and everything, so I thought…”

“Gumo calls almost everyone sweetheart. It’s his version of buddy.” She relaxed a tiny bit now that she understood the way he was thinking. “Look. I’m not like that. If I’m together with someone then I’m not going to sleep around. It’s not my thing.”

“I know. That’s why I was confused.” All of a sudden, she remembered his hesitation, the way he withdrew after winter break, the way he kept asking if she was sure about him. If she was sure she would have no regrets. It was like a lightbulb had gone off in her head. “I don’t…I didn’t mind. But I thought you didn’t want that for yourself.”

He stared at her, and she swallowed, her final button slipping into place. “Why do you care about this, anyway?” she asked. “Does it matter how I feel?”

“Yeah. It does.” His voice didn’t waver. “Do you like him, Miku? You said that you two aren’t together, but…that doesn’t mean you have no feelings for him.”

He spoke with an air of rationality, and she struggled to respond – this was harder to answer than his earlier question. If her relationship with Gumo was _complicated_ , then her feelings for him were a complete mess. Len stood there, patiently waiting as she chewed on her lip, contemplating her reply. His face betrayed no hint of emotion.

“I…kind of like him. But it’s hard to say because…” She paused, studying his face for his reaction; he didn’t even flinch. “I like someone else too, and I can’t decide.”

God. She sounded so greedy. How hard could it be to pick someone? She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at him, and after a while, she heard a sigh – then a gentle hand touched the top of her head and she stiffened, startled by the sensation of Len’s slender fingers carding through her hair. “You don’t need to feel bad.”

“Are you reading my mind?” She laughed, but it sounded closer to a choked sob, and his hand dipped down to touch her cheek. “Isn’t it selfish of me to keep him waiting just because I can’t make up my mind about the other person?”

“We all want more when it comes to love, isn’t it?” he answered, quiet and calm. His voice washed over her, soothing as rain. “We can’t help being greedy. We want things that we cannot have. I don’t think Gumo would blame you for it. He’s a nice guy.”

“You sound pretty confident about that. Do you two even know each other?”

He chuckled. “I think I’m a decent enough judge of character.” She opened her eyes at that, looking at him questioningly, and he clarified. “How many girls do you think have asked me out, not because they wanted _me_ but because they wanted what I could represent? I never asked to be someone’s trophy boyfriend.”

She had to stifle a giggle at the dour look on his face. “When I was a kid, I was super envious of pretty girls. They always had so many boys asking them out.”

“It’s not fun, believe me. At least I’m a guy, so it’s not so bad.” He shook his head. “I remember this girl in my high school kept getting stalked by an older man. She had to make a police report to get him off her back. It even made it to the news.”

“Oh.” Miku could honestly say that she had never thought about it that way. “I’m surprised Rin never went through the same thing. The two of you look so similar, after all.”

Rin was unquestionably pretty. She had the same intense blue eyes as her twin, the same delicate features, the same flaxen hair that glimmered underneath the sun, reminding her of spun gold. Len made a face. “No guy dares to go near Rin.”

Which was probably a good thing. She could already imagine Rin beating up anyone who dared to try stalking her. Assuming the perpetrator could even keep up with her, to begin with. “That’s good for her. She’s not interested in romance, anyway.”

He nodded, and they lapsed into silence. After a while, he turned away to tidy up his desk and she stared at him, entranced by the grace of his movements, watching how he picked up each item and considered it before placing it elsewhere. His desk wasn’t very messy to begin with, and he was soon done with arranging things; he set a pen down and adjusted his laptop, then glanced back at her. “Who _do_ you like?”

She blinked, the sudden words breaking her out of her reverie. “Oh. Um.” She almost admitted the truth but then she recalled he had a crush and wondered for a fleeting moment if that crush was _her_. “I’m keeping that a secret.”

“Oh, now I’m curious. Come on, tell me,” he wheedled, and he sounded so unlike his usual self that she couldn’t help but laugh, one hand darting up to cover her mouth. His gaze followed her hand, lingering on her lips, and she quietened, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. Again, the suspicion that he might like _her_ rose in her mind and she swallowed, unable to look him in the eye.

“Is it important? Why don’t you tell me who you like first? That’s a fair exchange,” she said, attempting to divert his attention. Len didn’t answer, and she peeked up at him – he was staring at the wall right behind her head, contemplative.

“My crush, huh?” he finally murmured. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But since I asked first, you should be the first to answer too,” he added, and she twisted her fingers, panicking.

Did she want to tell him? Rin’s words lingered in her mind – if Len truly did like her, then she ought to confess. It was everything she had wanted since the night she first kissed him in the courtyard. But still, she hesitated. _What about Gumo?_

She was worrying too much, she knew that. It would be easier if she could simply go with the flow, but she wasn’t the kind to let go so readily. “I think we can try to subvert some social norms here, so how about gentlemen first?”

“Creative, but no.” He fell back onto his chair, a small smile on his face, and he looked so unfairly handsome that for a second her whole mind went blank. “I promise I won’t judge you or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s a safe space here.”

“I’m not worried about that. I just…” She drew a deep breath, clamping down on the urge to run out of his room. “Fine. I guess I might. Um. I might have a crush on –”

Before she could finish her sentence, her phone began to buzz, and she whipped it out of her pocket, grateful for the interruption. She didn’t even look at the caller ID before picking up. “Hello?” she chirped, avoiding Len’s stare.

“Hi, Miku! Luka here!” A somewhat familiar voice trilled, and her eyes widened as her fingers curled tight around her phone. “Sorry to call you out of the blue, but Gumo shared your number with me and I _really_ need confirmation on that job by today.”

“Oh! Um. Yes. I’ll do it,” she said, still in a daze – Luka cheered, and she shook herself, wondering if she was imagining things. “When do you want me to start?”

“Hm, why don’t you come by tomorrow? You need training, and I’d like you to work a few shifts before we prepare for the party next weekend,” Luka answered. “Is that okay with you? But feel free to ask me any questions you want now about the job!”

“I guess the only questions I have are, um…how many days am I expected to work in a week? And what’s the pay like?” She shot Len a glance and found that he was now watching something on his laptop. At least he was no longer studying her with those piercing blue eyes – it was so hard to _think_ when he was watching her like that.

“At least three! Pay-wise, we’re competitive, especially compared to other restaurants. I’ll tell you more tomorrow but it’s more than minimum wage, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I think that’s all for now,” she said, not taking her eyes off Len. Luka cheerfully said goodbye and she hummed something in assent; when the call cut, he glanced at her, pausing his screen. Len clearly had a great fondness for cat videos.

“Got a job?” he asked. She nodded, exhaling – the magnitude of what she just agreed to finally sank in and her stomach churned. Honestly, she’d only said yes because she was so surprised by the call, and she was already beginning to wonder if she’d made the right decision. “That’s nice. It’s hard to find part-time work nowadays.”

“Are you looking for a job too?” Though she didn’t think he’d have to. Rin’s family was pretty well-off; Miku used to go to her house during high school to work on projects. Her dad was a director or something in a multinational company, so they were never short on money. She supposed their mother received alimony from him.

“Kind of. My dad is paying for my school fees right now,” Len answered, his attention drifting back to his cat video. “But we’ll have to pay him back eventually. It’s a loan.”

“A loan?” She wrinkled her nose. “That sucks. But Rin doesn’t seem bothered…”

“She said she’ll pay it back slowly. He’s not charging interest, after all.” He chuckled. “But I wanted to get this over and done with, so I thought it’d be good to save up for now. I used to model part-time for money, but I don’t want to pick that up again.”

She wasn’t at all surprised that he was a model. “Why not? Does it not pay well?”

“That depends. Sometimes it’s not worth it. You freeze on a bridge in the middle of winter with nothing but a coat and skinny jeans, and they pay you a couple hundred.” He sighed. “And it’s so uncomfortable. The weird positions you have to get into…”

Miku was glad that she had managed to distract him from their earlier conversation. “Have you met any supermodels? Or like, celebrities?”

He shook his head, his lips quirking up. “I’m not a big name in the industry. Most of the time, my shoots are for small companies looking to update their online catalogues. Nothing particularly special.”

“Okay. Any companies I might recognise?” She drew closer to peer over his shoulder, looking at the cat video as it resumed playing – two black cats, one with a single white spot on its butt, were play-fighting in front of a tree.

“Hm, maybe. But I don’t want to tell you which ones. That makes it too easy for you,” he said, and she pouted, lightly shoving his shoulder. He let out an exaggerated gasp and she giggled, a hint of warmth spreading through her.

It felt nice spending time with Len, the two of them basking in the afterglow of sex. “Hey, look at this one,” he said, going to the next video, and she watched as a young woman chased after four cats sprinting in all directions across a room.

“I like this.” She didn’t even notice she had said it out loud until he looked up at her, blinking. “I mean. This is good. Don’t you enjoy it? Just…you know. Us chilling.”

“Mm-hm.” His smile was full of affection, and her chest ached. “It’d be fantastic if we could do this more often, don’t you think?”

Slowly, she nodded, and part of her wondered if that was even possible – if there was a way she could manage her relationship with Len without having to turn Gumo down. The more she thought about this, the more impossible it seemed to become.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/dontenchantme)


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